Three  Feathers. 


BY 


WILLIAM  BLACK, 


Author  of  "Madcap  Violet,"  "Macleod  of  Dare,"  "Yolande,' 

"Strange  Adventures  of  a  Phaeton,"  "Shandon  Bells," 

etc.,  etc.,  etc. 


New  York  : 
JOHN   W.  LOVELL   COMPANY, 

14  and  16  Vesey  Street. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER.  PAGE* 

I.    MASTER   HARRY I 

II.   JIM   CROW 8 

III.  RES   ANGUSTVE    DOMI 15 

IV.  THE   LAST   LOOK    BACK 28 

V.   THROWING   A  FLY 39 

VI.   THE  AMONG  THE  TAILORS 43 

VII.   SOME  NEW   EXPERIENCES 52 

VIII.  wenna's  first  triumph 57 

IX.  THE  RING  OF   EVIL   OMEN 62 

X.  THE  SNARES   OF   LONDON 69 

XI.  THE  TWO    PICTURES 7^ 

XII.   THE  CHAIN    TIGHTENS 83 

XIII.  AN   UNEXPECTED    CONVERT 89 

XIV.  "  SIE  BAT   SO   SANFT,  SO    LIEBLICH  " 93 

.    XV.   A   LEAVE-TAKING    OF   LOVERS 99 

XVI.   THE   FAIR    SPRING-TIME I07 

XVII.   ONLY   A    BASKET   OF    PRIMROSES 1 1 5 

XVIII.   CONFIDENCES 122 

XIX.   THE   FIRST    MESSAGE  HOME 126 

XX.   TINTAGEL'S   WALLS I32 

XXI.   CONFESSION H5 

XXII.   ON   WINGS  OF   HOPE 1 52 

XXIII.  LOVE-MAKING   AT    LAND'S  END 157 

XXIV.  THE  CUT   DIRECT 1 68 

XXV.   NOT  THE   LAST    WORD 174 

XXVI.    A   PERILOUS  TRUCE 179 

XXVII.    FURTHER  ENTANGLEMENTS 189 

XXVIII.   FAREWELL  ! l92 

XXIX.    MABYN    DREAMS 201 

XXX.    FERN    IN    DIE    WELT 211 

XXXI.   "  BLUE   IS    THE    SWEETEST  " 2l8 

XXXII.  the  exile's  return 223 

XXXIII.   SOME  OLD  FRIENDS 233 


25 


iv  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER.  PAGE. 

XXXIV.   A   DARK  CONSPIRACY 245 

XXXV.    UNDER  THE   WHITE  STARS 254 

XXXVI.    INTO   CAPTIVITY 263 

XXXVII.    AN    ANGRY    INTERVIEW 2"JO 

XXXVIII.   THE  OLD    HALF-FORGOTTEN    JOKE 276 

XXIX.   NEW    AMBITIONS 282 

XL.   AN    OLD    LADY'S   APOLOGY 291 


THREE   FEATHERS 


CHAPTER  I. 

MASTER    HARRY, 


"  You  are  a  wicked  boy,  Harry,"  said  a  delightful  old  lady 
of  seventy,  with  pink  cheeks,  silvery  hair,  and  bright  eyes, 
to  a  tall  and  handsome  lad  of  twenty,  "  and  you  will  break 
your  mothers  heart.  But  it's  the  way  of  all  you  Trelyon«. 
Good  looks,  bad  temper,  plenty  of  money,  and  the  maddest 
fashion  of  spending  it — there  you  are,  the  whole  of  you. 
Why  won't  you  go  into  the  house  ? " 

"  It's  a  nice  house  to  go  into,  ain't  it  ?  "  said  the  boy,  with 
a  rude  laugh.     "  Look  at  it !  " 

It  was,  indeed,  a  nice  house  —  a  quaint,  old-fashioned, 
strongly-built  place,  that  had  withstood  the  western  gales 
for  some  hundred  and  fifty  years.  And  it  was  set  amid 
beautiful  trees,  and  it  overlooked  a  picturesque  little  valley, 
and  from  the  garden  terrace  in  front  of  it  you  could  catch  a 
glimpse  of  a  tiny  harbor  on  the  Cornish  coast,  with  its  line 
of  blue  water  passing  out  through  the  black  rocks  to  the  sea 
beyond. 

"  And  why  shouldn't  the  blinds  be  down  ?  "  said  the  old 
lady.     "  It's  the  anniversary  of  your  father's  death." 

"It's  always  the  anniversary  of  somebody's  death,"  her 
grand-son  said,  impatiently  flicking  at  a  standard  rose  with  his 
riding-switch ;  "  and  it's  nothing  but  snivel,  snivel,  from 
morning  till  night,  with  the  droning  of  the  organ  in  the 
chapel,  and  burning  of  incense  all  about  the  place,  and 
everybody  and  everything  dressed  in  black,  and  the  whole 
house  haunted  by  parsons.  The  parsons  about  the  neighbor- 
hood ain't  enough — they  must  come  from  all  parts  of  the 
country,  and  you  run  against  'em  in  the  hall,  and  you  knock 
them  over  when  you're  riding  out  at  the  gate,  and  just  when 
you  expect  to  get  a  pheasant  or  two  at  the  place  you  know,  out 
jumps  a  brace  of  parsons  that  have  been  picking  brambles." 


2  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

"  Harry;  -Harry,  where  do: you  expect  to  go  to,  if  you  hate 
the  parsons  so  ?  "  the  :ord  lady  said;  but  there  was  scarcely 
that  earnestness,  of-  reproof  hi  .her  tone  that  ought  to  have 
beeiV  tht^re. .'- '  •''  Ahcl  $$%  itVthe-  way  of  all  you  Trelyons.  Did 
I  ever  tell  you  how  your  grandfather  hunted  poor  Mr.  Pascoe 
that  winter  night?  Dear,  dear,  what  a  jealous  man  your 
grandfather  was  at  that  time,  to  be  sure  !  And  when  I  told 
him  that  John  Pascoe  had  been  carrying  stories  to  my  father, 
and  how  that  he  (your  grandfather)  was  to  be  forbidden  the 
house,  dear  me,  what  a  passion  he  was  in !  He  wouldn't 
come  near  the  house  after  that :  but  one  night,  as  Mr.  Pascoe 
was  walking  home,  your  grandfather  rode  after  him  and  over- 
took him,  and  called  out,  '  Look  here,  sir !  you  have  been 
telling  lies  about  me.  I  respect  your  cloth,  and  I  won't  lay 
a  hand  on  you ;  but,  by  the  Lord,  I  will  hunt  you  till  there 
isn't  a  rag  on  your  back ! '  And  sure  enough  he  did  ;  and 
when  poor  Mr.  Pascoe  understood  what  he  meant  he  was 
nearly  out  of  his  wits,  and  off  he  went  over  the  fields,  and 
over  the  walls,  and  across  the  ditches,  with  your  grandfather 
after  him,  driving  his  horse  at  him  when  he  stopped,  and 
only  shouting  with  laughter  in  answer  to  his  cries  and  pray- 
ers. Dear,  dear,  what  a  to-do  there  was  all  over  the  country- 
side after  that;  and  your  grandfather  durstn't  come  near  the 
house — or  he  was  too  proud  to  come  ;  but  we  got  married 
for  all  that — oh  yes  !  we  got  married  for  all  that."  The  old 
lady  laughed  in  her  quiet  way. 

"  You  were  too  good  for  a  parson,  grandmother,  I'll  be 
bound,"  said  Master  Harry  Trelyon.  "You  are  one  of  the 
right  sort,  you  are.  If  I  could  find  any  girl,  now,  like  what 
you  were  then,  see  if  I  wouldn't  try  to  get  her  for  a  wife." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  said  the  old  lady,  vastly  pleased,  and  smiling 
a  little ;  "  there  were  two  or  three  of  your  opinion  at  that 
time,  Harry.  Many  a  time  I  feared  they  would  be  the  death 
of  each  other.  And  I  never  could  have  made  up  my  mind, 
I  do  believe,  if  your  grandfather  hadn't  come  in  among 
them  to  settle  the  question.  It  was  all  over  with  me  then. 
It's  the  way  of  you  Trelyons ;  you  never  give  a  poor  girl  a 
chance.  It  isn't  ask  and  have — it's  come  and  take ;  and  so 
a  girl  becomes  a  Trelyon  before  she  knows  where  she  is. 
Dear,  dear?  what  a  fine  man  your  grandfather  was,  to  be  sure  ; 
and  such  a  pleasant,  frank,  good-natured  way  as  he  had  with 
him.  Nobody  could  say  No  twice  to  him.  The  girls  were 
all  wild  about  him ;  and  the  story  there  was  about  our  mar- 
riage !  Yes,  indeed,  I  was  mad  about  him  too,  only  that  he 
was  just  as  mad  about  me ;  and  that  night  of  the  ball,  when 


MASTER  HARRY.  3 

my  father  was  angry  because  I  would  not  dance,  and  when 
all  the  young  men  could  not  understand  it,  for  how  did  they 
know  that  your  grandfather  was  out  in  the  garden,  and 
asking  nothing  less  than  that  I  should  run  away  with  him 
there  and  then  to  Gretna  ?  Why,  the  men  of  that  time  had 
some  spirit,  lad,  and  the  girls,  too,  I  can  tell  you;  and  I 
couldn't  say  No  to  him,  and  away  we  went  just  before  day- 
light, and  I  in  my  ball-dress,  sure  enough,  and  we  never 
stopped  till  we  got  to  Exeter.  And  then  the  fight  for  fresh 
horses,  and  of!  again  ;  and  your  grandfather  had  such  a  way 
with  him,  Harry,  that  the  silliest  of  girls  would  have  plucked 
up  her  spirits  !  And  oh  !  the  money  he  scattered  to  get  the 
best  of  the  horses  at  the  posting-houses ;  for,  of  course,  we 
knew  that  my  father  was  close  after  us,  and  if  he  overtook  us, 
then  a  convent  in  France  for  me,  and  good-bye  to  George 
Trelyon— " 

"  Well,  grandmother,  don't  stop  I "  cried  the  lad  before  her. 
He  had  heard  the  story  a  hundred  times,  but  he  could  have 
heard  it  another  hundred  times,  merely  to  see  the  light  that 
lit  up  the  beautiful  old  face. 

"We  didn't  stop,  you  booby!"  she  said,  mistaking  his 
remark;  "stopping  wasn't  for  George  Trelyon.  And  oh! 
that  morning  as  we  drove  into  Carlisle,  and  we  looked  back, 
and  there,  sure  enough,  was  my  father's  carriage  a  long  way 
off.  Your  grandfather  swore,  Harry — yes,  he  did ;  and  well 
it  might  make  a  man  swear.  For  our  horses  were  dead  beat, 
and  before  we  should  have  time  to  change  my  father  would 
be  up  to  claim  me.  But  there  !  it  was  the  luckiest  thing  that 
ever  happened  to  me,  for  who  could  have  expected  to  find 
old  Lady  MacGorman  at  the  door  of  the  hotel,  just  getting 
into  her  carriage  ;  and  when  she  saw  me  she  stared,  and  I 
was  in  such  a  fright  I  couldn't  speak  ;  and  she  called  out, 
1  Good  heavens,  child,  why  did  you  run  away  in  your  ball- 
dress  ?  And  who's  the  man  ? '  '  His  name,  madam,'  said  I, 
'  is  George  Trelyon.'  For  by  this  time  he  was  in  the  yard, 
raging  about  horses.  '  A  nephew  of  the  Admiral,  isn't  he  ? ' 
she  says  ;  and  I  told  her  he  was  ;  and  then  quick  as  lightning 
what  does  she  do  but  whip  around  into  the  yard,  get  hold  of 
your  grandfather,  my  dear,  and  bundle  both  of  us  into  her 
own  carriage  !  Harry,  my  father's  carriage  was  at  the  end  of 
the  street,  as  I  am  a  living  woman.  And  just  as  we  drove 
off  we  heard  that  dear,  good,  kind  old  creature  call  out  to  the 
people  around,  '  Five  guineas  apiece  to  you  if  you  keep 
back  the  old  gentleman's  carriage  for  an  hour ! '  and  such  a 
laughing  as  your   grandfather  had  as   we   drove   down  the 


4  THREE  FEATHERS. 

streets  and  over  the  bridge,  and  up  the  hill,  and  out  the  level 
lanes.  Dear,  dear,  I  can  see  the  country  now.  I  can  remem- 
ber every  hedge,  and  the  two  rivers  we  crossed,  and  the  hills 
up  in  the  north ;  and  all  the  time  your  grandfather  kept  up 
the  laugh,  for  he  saw  I  was  frightened.  And  there  we  were 
wedded,  sure  enough,  and  all  in  good  time,  for  Lady  Mac- 
Gorman's  guineas  had  saved  us,  so  that  we  were  actually 
driving  back  again  when  we  saw  my  father's  carriage  coming 
along  the  road — at  no  great  speed  to  be  sure,  for  one  of  the 
horses  was  lame  and  the  other  had  cast  a  shoe — all  the  result 
of  that  good  old  creature's  money.  And  then  I  said  to  your 
grandfather,  '  What  shall  we  do,  George  ? '  '  We  shall  have 
to  stand  and  deliver,  Sue  ! '  says  he  and  with  that  he  had  the 
horses  pulled  up,  and  we  got  out.  And  when  my  father  came 
up  he  got  out,  too,  and  George  took  me  by  the  hand — there 
was  no  more  laughing  now,  I  can  tell  you,  for  it  was  but  natural 
I  should  cry  a  bit — and  he  took  off  his  hat,  and  led  me  forward 
to  my  father.  I  don't  know  what  he  said,  I  was  in  such  a 
fright ;  but  I  know  that  my  father  looked  at  him  for  a  minute 
— and  George  was  standing  rather  abashed,  perhaps,  but 
then  so  handsome  he  looked,  and  so  good-natured  ! — and  then 
my  father  burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter,  and  came  forward 
and  shook  him  by  the  hand ;  and  all  that  he  would  say  then, 
or  at  any  other  time  to  the  day  of  his  death,  was  only  this — 
1  By  Jupiter,  sir,  that  was  a  devilish  good  pair  that  took  you 
straight  on  end  to  Exeter  ! '  " 

"I  scarcely  remember  my  grandfather,"  the  boy  said;  "but 
he  couldn't  have  been  a  handsomer  man  than  my  father,  nor 
a  better  man  either.  " 

"  I  don't  say  that,"  the  old  lady  observed,  candidly.  "  Your 
father  was  just  such  another.  '  Like  father,  like  son,'  they 
used  to  say  when  he  was  a  boy.  But  then,  you  see,  your 
father  would  go  and  choose  a  wife  for  himself  in  spite  of 
everybody,  just  like  all  you  Trelyons,  and  so — " 

But  she  remembered,  and  checked  herself.  She  began  to 
tell  the  lad  in  how  far  he. resembled  his  grandfather  in  appear- 
ance, and  he  accepted  these  descriptions  of  his  features  and 
figure  in  a  heedless  manner,  as  of  one  who  had  grown  too 
familiar  with  the  fact  of  his  being  handsome  to  care  about  it. 
Had  not  every  one  paid  him  compliments,  more  or  less  indi- 
rect, from  his  cradle  upward  !  He  was,  indeed,  all  that  the 
old  lady  would  have  desired  to  see  in  a  Trelyon — tall,  square- 
shouldered,  clean-limbed,  with  dark  gray  eyes  set  under  black 
eyelashes,  a  somewhat  aquiline  nose,  proud  and  well-cut  lips, 
a  handsome  forehead,  and   a  complexion  which  might  have 


MASTER  HARRY.  5 

been  pale  but  for  its  having  been  bronzed  by  constant  expos- 
ure to  sun  and  weather.  There  was  something  very  winning 
about  his  face,  when  he  chose  to  be  winning ;  and  when  he 
laughed,  the  laughter,  being  quite  honest  and  careless  and 
musical,  was  delightful  to  hear.  With  all  these  personal  ad- 
vantages, joined  to  a  fairly  quick  intelligence  and  a  ready 
sympathy,  Master  Harry  Trelyon  ought  to  have  been  a  univer- 
sal favorite.  So  far  from  that  being  the  case,  a  section  of  the 
persons  whom  he  met,  and  whom  he  shocked  by  his  rudeness, 
quickly  dismissed  him  as  an  irreclaimable  cub ;  another  sec- 
tion, with  whom  he  was  on  better  terms,  considered  him  a 
bad-tempered  lad,  shook  their  heads  in  a  humorous  fashion 
over  his  mother's  trials,  and  were  inclined  to  keep  out  of  his 
way ;  while  the  best  of  his  friends  endeavored  to  throw  the 
blame  of  his  faults  on  his  bringing  up,  and  maintained  that 
he  had  many  good  qualities  if  only  they  had  been  properly 
developed.  The  only  thing  certain  about  these  various  criti- 
cisms was  that  they  did  not  concern  very  much  the  subject 
of  them. 

"  And  if  I  am  like  my  grandfather,"  he  said,  good-naturedly, 
to  the  old  lady,  who  was  seated  in  a  garden-chair,  "  why  don't 
you  get  me  a  wife  such  as  he  had  ? " 

"You?  A  wife  ?  "  she  repeated,  indignantly;  remember- 
ing that,  after  all,  to  praise  the  good  looks  and  excuse  the 
hot-headedness  of  the  Trelyons  was  not  precisely  the  teaching 
this  young  man  needed.  "  You  take  a  wife  ?  Why,  what 
girl  would  have  you  ?  You  are  a  mere  booby.  You  can 
scarcely  write  your  name.  George  Trelyon  was  a  gentleman, 
sir.     He  could  converse  in  six  languages — " 

"  And  swear  considerably  in  one,  I've  heard,"  the  lad  said, 
with  an  impertinent  laugh. 

"  You  take  a  wife  ?  I  believe  the  stable-boys  are  better 
educated  than  you  are  in  manners,  as  well  as  in  learning. 
All  you  are  fit  for  is  to  become  a  horse-breaker  to  a  cavalry 
regiment,  or  a  game-keeper ;  and  I  do  believe  it  is  that  old 
wretch,  Pentecost  Luke,  who  has  ruined  you.  Oh !  I  heard 
how  Master  Harry  used  to  defy  his  governess,  and  would  say 
nothing  to  her  for  days  together,  but — 

1  As  I  was  going  to  St.  Ives, 
I  met  fifty  old  wives.' 

Then  old  Luke  had  to  be  brought  in,  and  Luke's  cure  for 
stubbornness  was  to  give  the  brat  a  gun  and  teach  'him  to 
shoot  starlings.  Oh  !  I  know  the  whole  story,  my  son,  though 
I  wasn't  in  Cornwall  at  the  time.     And  then  Master  Harry 


6  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

must  be  be  sent  to  school ;  but  two  days  afterwards  Master 
Harry  is  discovered  at  the  edge  of  a  wood,  coolly  seated  with 
a  gun  in  his  hand,  waiting  for  his  ferrets  to  drive  out  the  rab- 
bits. Then  Master  Harry  is  furnished  with  a  private  tutor; 
but  a  parcel  of  gunpowder  is  found  below  the  gentleman's 
chair,  with  the  heads  of  several  lucifer  matches  lying  about. 
So  Master  Harry  is  allowed  to  have  his  own  way ;  and  his 
master  and  preceptor  is  a  lying  old  game-keeper,  and  Master 
Harry  can't  read  a  page  out  of  a  book,  but  he  can  snare  birds, 
and  stuff  fish,  and  catch  butterflies,  and  go  cliff-hunting  on  a 
horse  that  is  bound  to  break  his  neck  some  day.  Why,  sir, 
what  do  think  a  girl  would  have  to  say  to  you  if  you  married 
her  ?  She  would  expect  you  to  take  her  into  society ;  she 
would  expect  you  to  be  agreeable  in  your  manners,  and  be 
able  to  talk  to  people.  Do  you  think  she  would  care  about 
your  cunning  ways  of  catching  birds,  as  if  you  were  a  cat  or 
a  sparrow-hawk  ?  " 

He  only  flicked  at  the  rose,  and  laughed ;  lecturing  had 
but  little  effect  on  him. 

"  Do  you  think  a  girl  would  come  to  a  house  like  this — one 
half  of  it  filled  with  clogs  and  birds  and  squirrels,  and  what 
not,  the  other  furnished  like  a  chapel  in  a  cemetery  ?  A 
combination  of  a  church  and  a  menagerie,  that's  what  I  call 
it." 

"  Grandmother,"  he  said,  "  these  parsons  have  been  stuffing 
your  head  full  of  nonsense  about  me.'* 

"  Have  they  ?  "  said  the  old  lady,  sharply,  and  eying  him 
keenly.  "  Are  you  sure  it  is  all  nonsense  ?  You  talk  of  marry- 
ing— and  you  know  that  no  girl  of  your  station  in  life  would 
look  at  you.  What  about  that  public-house  in  the  village, 
and  the  two  girls  there,  and  your  constant  visits  ?  " 

He  turned  around  with  a  quick  look  of  anger  in  his  face. 

"  Who  told  you  such  infamous  stories  ?  I  suppose  one  of 
the  cringing,  sneaking,  white-livered —     Bah  )  " 

He  switched  the  head  off  the  rose  and  strode  away,  saying, 
as  he  went — 

"  Grandmother,  you  mustn't  stay  here  long.  The  air  of  the 
place  affects  even  you.  Another  week  of  it,  and  you'll  be  as 
mean  as  the  rest  of  them." 

But  he  was  in  a  very  bad  temper,  despite  his  careless  gait. 
There  was  a  scowl  on  the  handsome  and  boyish  face  that  was 
not  pleasant  to  see.  He  walked  around  to  the  stables,  kicked 
about  the  yard  while  his  horse  was  being  saddled,  and  then 
rode  out  of  the  grounds  and  along  the  highway,  until  he  went 
clattering  down  the  steep  and  stony  main  street  of  Eglosilyan. 


MASTER  HARRY.  7 

The  children  knew  well  this  black  horse  ;  they  had  a  super- 
stitious fear  of  him,  and  they  used  to  scurry  into  the  cottages 
when  his  wild  rider,  who  seldom  tightened  rein,  rode  down 
the  precipitous  thoroughfare.  But  just  at  this  moment,  when 
young  Trelyon  was  paying  little  heed  as  to  where  he  was  go- 
ing, a  small,  white-haired  bundle  of  humanity  came  running 
out  of  a  doorway,  and  stumbled,  and  fell  right  in  the  way  of 
the  horse.  The  lad  was  a  good  rider,  but  all  the  pulling  up 
in  the  world  could  not  prevent  the  forefeet  of  the  horse,  as  they 
were  shot  out  into  the  stones,  from  rolling  over  that  round 
bundle  of  clothes.  Trelyon  leaped  to  the  ground  and  caught 
up  the  child,  who  stared  at  him  with  big,  blue,  frightened  eyes. 

"  It's  you,  young  Pentecost,  is  it  ?  And  what  the  dickens 
do  you  mean  by  trying  to  knock  over  my  horse,  eh  ?  " 

The  small  boy  was  terrified,  but  quite  obviously  not  hurt  a 
bit ;  and  his  captor,  leading  the  horse  with  one  hand  and  af- 
fixing the  bridle  to  the  door,  carried  him  into  the  cottage. 
"Well,  Mother  Luke,"  said  young  Trelyon,  "I  know  you've 
got  too  many  children,  but  do  you  expect  that  I'm  going  to 
put  them  out  of  the  way  for  you  ? " 

She  uttered  a  little  scream,  and  caught  at  the  boy. 

"  Oh  1  there's  no  harm  done ;  but  I  suppose  I  must  give 
him  a  couple  of  sovereigns  because  he  nearly  frightened  me  out 
of  my  wits.  Poor  little  kid  !  It's  hard  on  him  that  you 
should  have  given  him  such  a  name.  I  suppose  you  thought 
it  was  Cornish  because  it  begins  with  Pen" 

"  You  knaw  'twere  his  vather's  name,  Maaster  Harry,"  said 
Mrs.  Luke,  smiling,  as  she  saw  that  the  child's  chubby  fingers 
were  being  closed  over  two  bright  gold  pieces. 

Just  at  that  moment  Master  Harry,  his  eyes  having  got  ac- 
customed to  the  twilight  of  the  kitchen,  perceived  that  among 
the  little  crowd  of  children,  at  the  fireside  end,  a  young  lady 
was  sitting.  She  was  an  insignificant  little  person,  with  dark 
eyes ;  she  had  a  slate  in  her  hand  ;  the  children  were  around 
her  in  a  circle. 

"Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Wenna ! "  the  young  man 
said,  removing  his  hat  quickly,  and  blushing  all  over  his 
handsome  face.  "  I  did  not  see  you  in  the  dark.  Is  your 
father  at  the  inn  ? — I  was  going  to  see  him.  I  hope  I  haven't 
frightened  you." 

"  Yes,  my  father  has  come  back  from  Plymouth,"  said  the 
young  lady,  quietly,  and  without  rising.  "  And  I  think  you 
might  be  a  little  more  careful  in  riding  through  the  village, 
Mr.  Trelyon." 


8  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

"  Good  morning/'  he  said-  "  Take  better  care  of  Master 
Pentecost,  Mother  Luke."  And  with  that  he  went  out  and 
got  into  the  saddle  again,  and  set  off  to  ride  down  to  the  inn, 
not  quite  so  recklessly  as  heretofore. 


CHAPTER   II. 

JIM   CROW. 


When  Miss  Wenna,  or  Morwenna,  as  her  mother  in  a 
freak  of  romanticism  had  called  her,  had  finished  her  teach- 
ing, and  had  inspected  some  fashioning  of  garments  in  which 
Mrs.  Luke  was  engaged,  she  put  on  her  light  shawl  and  her 
hat,  and  went  out  into  the  fresh  air.  She  was  now  standing 
in  the  main  street  of  Eglosilyan  ;  and  there  were  houses  right 
down  below  her,  and  houses  far  above  her,  but  a  stranger 
would  have  been  puzzled  to  say  where  this  odd  little  village 
began  and  ended.  For  it  was  built  in  a  straggling  fashion  on 
the  sides  of  two  little  ravines  ;  and  the  small  stone  cottages 
were  so  curiously  scattered  among  the  trees,  and  the  plots  of 
gardens  were  so  curiously  banked  up  with  walls  that  were 
smothered  in  wild  flowers,  that  you  could  only  decide  which 
was  the  main  thoroughfare  by  the  presence  there  of  two  grey- 
stone  chapels — one  the  Wesleyans'  Ebenezer,  the  other  the 
Bible  Christians'.  The  churches  were  far  away  on  the 
uplands,  where  they  were  seen  like  towers  along  the  bleak 
cliffs  by  the  passing  sailors.  But  perhaps  Eglosilyan  proper 
ought  to  be  considered  as  lying  down  in  the  hollow,  where  the 
two  ravines  converged.  For  here  was  the  chief  inn ;  and 
here  was  the  overshot  flour-mill ;  and  here  was  the  strange 
little  harbor,  tortuous,  narrow,  and  deep,  into  which  one  or 
two  heavy  coasters  came  for  slate,  bringing  with  them  timber 
and  coal.  Eglosilyan  is  certainly  a  picturesque  place ;  but 
one's  difficulty  is  to  get  anything  like  a  proper  view  of  it. 
The  black  and  mighty  cliff's  at  the  mouth  of  the  harbor,  where 
the  Atlantic  seethes  and  boils  in  the  camiest  weather,  the 
beautiful  blue-green  water  under  the  rocks  and  along  the 
stone  quays,  the  quaint  bridge,  and  the  mill,  are  pleasant  to 
look  at  ;  but  where  is  Eglosilyan  ?  Then  if  you  go  up  one  of 
the  ravines,  and  get  among  the  old  houses,  with  their  tree- 
fuchsias  and  hydrangeas  and  marigolds,  and  lumps  of  white 
quartz  in  the  quaint  little  gardens,  you  find  yourself  looking 
down  the  chimneys  of  one  portion  of  Eglosilyan,  and  looking 


JIM  CROW.  9 

up  to  the  doorsteps  of  another — everywhere  a  confusion  of 
hewn  rocks  and  natural  terrace  and  stone  walls,  and  bushes 
and  hart's-tongue  fern.  Some  thought  that  the  Trelyon  Arms 
should  be  considered  the  natural  centre  of  Eglosilyan  ;  but 
you  could  not  see  half  a  dozen  houses  from  any  of  its  win- 
dows. Others  would  have  given  the  post  of  honor  to  the 
National  School,  which  had  been  there  since  1843  ;  but  it  was 
up  in  a  by-street,  and  could  only  be  approached  by  a  flight  of 
steps  cut  in  the  slate  wall  that  banked  up  the  garden  in 
front  of  it.  Others,  for  reasons  which  need  not  be  mentioned, 
held  that  the  most  important  part  of  Eglosilyan  was  the 
Napoleon  Hotel — a  humble  little  pot-house,  frequented  by  the 
workers  in  the  slate-quarries,  who  came  there  to  discuss  the 
affairs  of  the  nation  and  hear  the  news.  Anyhow,  Eglosilyan 
was  a  green,  bright,  rugged,  and  picturesque  little  place, 
oftentimes  wet  with  the  western  rains,  and  at  all  times  fresh 
and  sweet  with  the  moist  breezes  from  the  Atlantic. 

Miss  Wenna  went  neither  down  the  street  nor  up  the  street, 
but  took  a  rough  and  narrow  little  path  leading  by  some  of 
the  cottages  to  the  cliffs  overlooking  the  sea.  There  was  a 
sound  of  music  in  the  air  ;  and  by  and  by  she  came  in  sight 
of  an  elderly  man,  who,  standing  in  an  odd  little  donkey-cart, 
and  holding  the  reins  in  one  hand,  held  with  the  other  a  cor- 
nopean, which  he  played  with  great  skill.  No  one  in  Eglosil- 
yan could  tell  precisely  whether  Michael  Jago  had  been 
bugler  to  some  regiment,  or  had  acquired  his  knowledge  of 
the  cornopean  in  a  travelling  show  ;  but  everybody  liked  to 
hear  the  cheerful  sound,  and  came  out  to  the  cottage-door  to 
welcome  him,  as  he  went  from  village  to  village  with  his  cart, 
whether  they  wanted  to  buy  suet  or  not.  And  now,  as  Miss 
Wenna  saw  him  approach,  he  was  playing  "The  Girl  I  left 
Behind  Me,"  and  as  there  was  no  one  about  to  listen  to  him, 
the  pathos  of  certain  parts,  and  the  florid  and  skilful  execu- 
tion of  others,  showed  that  Mr.  Jago  had  a  true  love  for 
music,  and  did  not  merely  use  it  to  advertise  his  wares. 

"  Good-morning  to  you,  Mr.  Jago/'  said  Miss  Wenna,  as 
he  came  up. 

"  'Marnin,  Miss  Rosewarne,"  he  said,  taking  down  his  cor- 
nopean. 

"This  is  a  narrow  road  for  your  cart." 

"  'Tain't  a  very  good  way  ;  but  bless  you,  me  and  my  don- 
key we're  used  to  any  zart  of  a  road.  I  dii  believe  we  could 
go  down  to  the  bache,  down  the  face  of  Black  Cliff." 

"  Mr.  Jago,  I  want  to  say  something  to  you.  If  you  are 
dealing  with  old  Mother  Keam  to-day,  you'll  give  her  a  good 


io  THREE  FEATHERS. 

extra  bit,  won't  you  ?  And  so  with  Mrs.  Geswetherick,  for 
she  has  had  no  letter  from  her  son  now  for  three  months. 
And  this  will  pay  you,  and  you'll  say  nothing  about  it,  you 
know." 

She  put  the  coin  in  his  hand — it  was  an  arrangement  of 
old  standing  between  the  two. 

"  Well,  yli  be  a  good  young  lady  :  yaas,  yii  be,"  he  said,  as 
he  drove  on  ;  and  then  she  heard  him  announcing  his  arrival 
to  the  people  of  Eglosilyan  by  playing,  in  a  very  elaborate 
manner,  "  Love's  Young  Dream." 

The  solitary  young  lady  who  was  taking  her  morning  walk 
now  left  this  rugged-road,  and  found  herself  on  the  bleak  and 
high  uplands  of  the  coast.  Over  there  was  the  sea — a  fair 
summer  sea ;  and  down  into  the  southwest  stretched  a  tall 
line  of  cliff,  black,  precipitous,  and  jagged,  around  the  base 
of  which  even  this  blue  sea  was  churned  into  seething  masses 
of  white.  Close  by  was  a  church  ;  and  the  very  gravestones 
were  propped  up,  so  that  they  should  withstand  the  force  of 
the  gales  that  sweep  over  those  windy  plains. 

She  went  across  the  uplands,  and  passed  down  to  a  narrow 
neck  of  rock,  which  connected  with  the  mainland  a  huge  pro- 
jecting promontory,  on  the  summit  of  which  was  a  square  and 
strongly-built  tower.  On  both  sides  of  this  ledge  of  rock  the 
sea  from  below  passed  into  narrow  channels,  and  roared  into 
gigantic  caves ;  but  when  once  you  had  ascended  again  to 
the  summit  of  the  tall  projecting  cliff,  the  distance  softened 
the  sound  into  a  low  continuous  murmur,  and  the  motion  of 
the  waves  beneath  you  was  only  visible  in  the  presence  of 
that  white  foam  where  the  black  cliffs  met  the  blue  sea. 

She  went  out  pretty  nearly  to  the  verge  of  the  cliff,  where 
the  close,  short,  wind-swept  sea-grass  gave  way  to  immense 
and  ragged  masses  of  rock,  descending  sheer  into  the  waves 
below  ;  and  here  she  sat  down,  and  took  out  a  book,  and  be- 
gan to  read.  But  her  thoughts  were  busier  than  her  eyes. 
Her  attention  would  stray  away  from  the  page  before  her  to 
the  empty  blue  sea,  where  scarcely  a  sail  was  to  be  seen,  and 
to  the  far  headlands  lying  under  the  white  of  the  summer  sky. 
One  of  these  headlands  was  Tintagel ;  and  close  by  were  the 
ruins  of  the  great  castle,  where  Uther  Pen  dragon  kept  his 
state,  where  the  mystic  Arthur  was  born,  where  the  brave 
Sir  Tristram  went  to  see  his  true  love,  La  Belle  Isoulde.  All 
that  world  had  vanished  and  gone  into  silence  ;  could  any- 
thing be  more  mute  and  still  than  these  bare  uplands  out  at 
the  end  of  the  world,  these  voiceless  cliffs,  and  the  empty 
circle  of  the  sea  ?     The  sun  was  hot  on  the  rocks  beneath 


JIM  CROW.  II 

her,  were  the  pink  quartz  lay  incrusted  among  the  slate  ;  but 
there  was  scarcely  the  hum  of  an  insect  to  break  the  stillness, 
and  the  only  sign  of  life  about  was  the  circling  of  one  or  two 
sea-birds,  so  far  below  her  that  their  cries  could  not  be  heard. 

"  Yes,  it  was  a  long  time  ago,"  the  girl  was  thinking,  as 
the  book  lay  unheeded  on  her  knee,  "  A  sort  of  mist  covers 
it  now,  and  the  knights  seem  great  and  tall  men  as  you  think 
of  them  riding  through  the  fog,  almost  in  silence.  But  then 
there  were  the  brighter  days,  when  the  tournaments  were  held, 
and  the  sun  shone  out,  and  the  noble  ladies  wore  rich  colors, 
and  every  one  came  to  see  how  beautiful  they  were.  And 
how  fine  k  must  have  been  to  have  sat  there,  and  have  all 
the  knights  ready  to  fight  for  you,  and  glad  when  you  gave 
them  a  bit  of  ribbon  or  a  smile  !  And  in  these  days,  too,  it 
must  be  a  fine  thing  to  be  a  noble  lady,  and  beautiful  and 
tall,  like  a  princess ;  and  to  go  among  the  poor  people,  put- 
ting everything  to  rights,  because  you  have  lots  of  money, 
and  because  the  roughest  of  the  men  look  up  to  you, 
and  think  you  a  queen,  and  will  do  anything  you  ask. 
What  a  happy  life  a  grand  and  beautiful  lady  must  have, 
when  she  is  tall  and  fair-haired,  and  sweet  in  her  man- 
ner ;  and  every  one  around  her  is  pleased  to  serve  her,  and 
she  can  do  a  kindness  by  merely  saying  a  word  to  the  poor 
people  !  But  if  you  are  only  Jim  Crow !  There's  Mabyn, 
now,  she  is  everybody's  favorite  because  she  is  so  pretty ; 
and  whatever  she  does,  that  is  always  beautiful  and  graceful, 
because  she  is  so.  Father  never  calls  her  Jim  Crow.  And 
I  ought  to  be  jealous  of  her,  for  every  one  praises  her,  and 
mere  strangers  ask  for  her  photograph  ;  and  Mr.  Roscorla 
always  writes  to  her,  and  Mr.  Trelyon  stuffed  those  squirrels 
for  her,  though  he  never  offered  to  stuff  squirrels  for  me. 
But  I  cannot  be  jealous  of  Mabyn — I  cannot  even  try.  She 
looks  at  you  with  her  blue,  soft  eyes,  and  you  fall  in  love 
with  her  ;  and  that  is  the  advantage  of  being  handsome  and 
beautiful,  for  you  can  please  every  one,  and  make  every  one 
like  you,  and  confer  favors  on  people  all  day  long.  But  if 
you  are  small  and  plain  and  dark — if  your  father  calls  you 
Jim  Crow — what  can  you  do  ?  " 

These  despondent  fancies  did  not  seem  to  depress  her 
much.  The  gloom  of  them  was  certainly  not  visible  on  her 
face,  nor  yet  in  the  dark  eyes,  which  had  a  strange  and  win- 
ning earnestness  in  them.  She  pulled  a  bit  of  tormentil  from 
among  the  close  warm  grass  on  the  rocks,  and  she  hummed 
a  line  or  two  of  "  Wapping  Old  Stairs."     Then  she  turned  to 


12  THREE  FEATHERS. 

her  book  ;  but  by  and  by  her  eyes  wandered  away  again,  and 
she  fell  to  thinking. 

"  If  you  were  a  man,  now,"  she  was  silently  saying  to  her- 
self, "  that  would  be  quite  different.  It  would  not  matter 
how  ugly  you  were — for  you  could  try  to  be  brave  or  clever, 
or  a  splendid  rider  or  something  of  that  kind — and  nobody 
would  mind  how  ugly  you  were.  But  it's  very  hard  to  be  a 
woman  and  to  be  plain  ;  you  feel  as  if  you  were  good  for 
nothing,  and  had  no  business  to  live.  They  say  that  you 
should  cultivate  the  graces  of  the  mind  ;  but  it's  only  old 
people  who  say  that ;  and  perhaps  you  may  not  have  any 
mind  to  cultivate.  How  much  better  it  would  be  to  be  pret- 
ty while  you  are  young,  and  leave  the  cultivation  of  the  mind 
for  after-years !  and  that  is  why  I  have  to  prevent  mother 
from  scolding  Mabyn  for  never  reading  a  book.  If  I  were 
like  Mabyn,  I  should  be  so  occupied  in  giving  people  the 
pleasure  of  looking  at  me  and  talking  to  me  that  I  should  have 
no  time  for  books.  Mabyn  is  like  a  princess.  And  if  she 
were  a  grand  lady,  instead  of  being  only  an  innkeeper's 
daughter,  what  a  lot  of  things  she  could  do  about  Eglosilyan ! 
She  could  go  and  persuade  Mr.  Roscorla,  by  the  mere  sweet- 
ness of  her  manner,  to  be  the  less  bitter  in  talking ;  she 
could  go  up  to  Mrs.  Trelyon,  and  bring  her  out  more  among 
her  neighbors,  and  make  the  house  pleasanter  for  her  son ; 
she  could  go  to  my  father,  and  beg  him  to  be  a  little  more 
considerate  to  mother  when  she  is  angry  ;  she  might  get  some 
influence  over  Mr.  Trelyon  himself,  and  make  him  less  of  a 
petulant  boy.  Perhaps  Mabyn  may  do  some  of  these  things 
when  she  gets  a  little  older.  It  ought  to  please  her  to  try,  at 
all  events  ;  and  who  can  withstand  her  when  she  likes  to  be 
affectionate  and  winning  ?     Not  Jim  Crow,  anyway." 

She  heaved  a  sigh,  not  a  very  dismal  one,  and  got  up  and 
prepared  to  go  home.  She  was  humming  carelessly  to  her- 
self— 

"  Your  Polly  has  never  been  false,  she  declares, 
Since  last  time  we  parted  at  Wapping  Old  Stairs;  " 

she  had  got  that  length  when  she  was  startled  into  silence 

by  the  sound  of  a  horse's  feet,  and,  turning  quickly  around, 
found  Mr.  Trelyon  galloping  up  the  steep  slope  that  reaches 
across  to  the  mainland.  It  was  no  pleasant  place  to  ride 
across,  for  a  stumble  of  the  animal's  foot  would  have  sent 
horse  and  rider  down  into  the  gulfs  below,  where  the  blue- 
green  sea  was  surging  in  among  the  black  rocks. 


JIM  CROW.  13 

"  Oh  !  how  could  you  be  so  foolish  as  to  do  that  ? "  she  cried. 
"  I  beg  of  you  to  come  down,  Mr.  Trelyon.     I  cannot — " 

"Why,  Dick  is  as  sure-footed  as  I  am,"  said  the  lad,  his 
handsome  face  flushing  with  the  ride  up  from  Eglosilyan.  "  I 
thought  I  should  find  you  here.  There's  no  end  of  a  row  go- 
ing on  at  the  inn,  Miss  Wenna,  and  that's  a  fact.  I  fancied 
I'd  better  come  and  tell  you ;  for  there's  no  one  can  put  things 
straight  like  you,  you  know." 

A  quarrel  between  her  father  and  her  mother — it  was  of  no 
rare  occurrence,  and  she  was  not  much  surprised. 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said.  "  It  is  very  kind  of 
you  to  have  taken  the  trouble.     I  will  go  down  at  once." 

But  she  was  looking  rather  anxiously  at  him,  as  he  turned 
around  his  horse. 

" Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said,  quickly,  "would  you  oblige  me 
by  getting  down  and  leading  your  horse  across  until  you  reach 
the  path  ? " 

He  was  out  of  the  saddle  in  a  moment. 

"  I  will  walk  down  with  you  to  Eglosilyan,  if  you  like,"  he 
said,  carelessly.     "  You  often  come  up  here,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Nearly  every  day.     I  always  take  a  walk  in  the  forenoon." 

"  Does  Mabyn  ever  go  with  you  ?  "  His  companion  noticed 
that  he  always  addressed  her  as  Miss  Wenna,  whereas  her 
sister  was  simply  Mabyn. 

"  Not  often." 

"  I  wonder  she  doesn't  ride — I  am  sure  she  would  look  well 
on  horseback — don't  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  Mabyn  would  look  well  anywhere,"  said  the  eldest  sister, 
with  a  smile. 

"  If  she  would  like  to  try  a  lady's  saddle  on  your  father's 
cob,  I  would  send  you  one  down  from  the  Hall,"  the  lad  said. 
"  My  mother  never  rides  now.  But  perhaps  I'd  better  speak 
to  your  father  about  it.  Oh  !  by  the  way,  he  told  me  a  capital 
story  this  morning  that  he  heard  in  coming  from  Plymouth  to 
Launceston  in  the  train.  Two  farmers  belonging  to  Laun- 
ceston  had  got  into  a  carriage  the  day  before,  and  found  in  it 
a  parson,  against  whom  they  had  a  grudge.  He  didn't  know 
either  of  them  by  sight ;  and  so  they  pretended  to  be  stran- 
gers, and  sat  down  opposite  each  other.  One  of  them  put  up 
the  window ;  the  other  put  it  down  with  a  bang.  The  first 
drew  it  up  again,  and  said,  '  I  desire  you  to  leave  the  window 
alone,  sir ! '  The  other  said,  '  I  mean  to  have  that  window 
down,  and  if  you  touch  it  again  I  will  throw  you  out  if  it.' 
Meanwhile  the  parson  at  the  other  end  of  the  carriage,  who 
was  a  little  fellow  and  rather  timid,  had  got  into  an  agony  of 


14  THREE  FEATHERS. 

fright ;  and  at  last,  when  the  two  men  seemed  about  to  seize 
each  other  by  the  throat,  he  called  out,  '  For  Heaven's  sake, 
gentlemen,  do  not  quarrel !  Sir,  I  beg  of  you,  I  implore  you, 
as  a  clergyman  I  entreat  you,  to  put  up  that  knife  ! '  And 
then,  of  course,  they  both  turned  upon  him  like  tigers,  and 
slanged  him,  and  declared  they  would  break  his  back  over  the 
same  window.     Fancy  the  fright  he  was  in  !  " 

The  boy  laughed  merrily. 

"  Do  you  think  that  was  a  good  joke  ?  "  the  girl  beside  him 
asked,  quietly. 

He  seemed  a  little  embarrassed. 

"  Do  you  think  it  was  a  very  manly  and  courageous  thing 
for  two  big  farmers  to  frighten  a  small  and  timid  clergyman  ? 
I  think  it  was  rather  mean  and  cowardly.  I  see  no  joke  in 
it  at  all." 

His  face  grew  more  and  more  red. 

"  I  don't  suppose  they  meant  any  harm,"  he  said,  curtly ; 
"but  you  know  we  can't  all  be  squaring  every  word  and 
look  by  the  Prayer-book.  And  I  suppose  the  parson  him- 
self, if  he  had  known,  would  not  have  been  so  fearfully 
serious  but  that  he  could  have  taken  a  joke  like  any  one 
else.  By  the  way,  this  is  the  nearest  road  to  Trevenna, 
isn't  it  ?  I  have  got  to  ride  over  there  before  the  afternoon, 
Miss  Rosewarne  ;  so  I  shall  bid  you  good-day." 

He  got  on  horseback  again,  and  took  off  his  cap  to  her, 
and  rode  away. 

"  Good-day,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said,  meekly. 

And  so  she  walked  down  to  the  inn  by  herself,  and  was 
inclined  to  reproach  herself  for  being  so  very  serious,  and  for  be- 
ing unable  to  understand  a  joke  like  any  one  else.  Yetshe  was 
not  unhappy  about  it.  It  was  a  pity  if  Mr.  Trelyon  were  annoyed 
with  her ;  but,  then,  she  had  long  ago  taught  herself  to  believe 
that  she  could  not  easily  please  people,  as  Mabyn  could ;  and 
she  cheerfully  accepted  the  fact.  Sometimes,  it  is  true, 
she  indulged  in  idle  dreams  of  what  she  might  do  if  she 
were  beautiful  and  rich  and  noble ;  but  she  soon  laughed 
herself  out  of  these  foolish  fancies,  and  they  left  no  sting  of 
regret  behind  them.  At  this  moment,  as  she  walked  down  to 
Eglosilyan,  with  the  tune  of  "  YVapping  Old  Stairs  "  rocking 
itself  to  sleep  in  her  head,  and  with  her  face  brightened  by 
her  brisk  walk,  there  was  neither  disappointment  nor  envy 
nor  ambition  in  her  mind.  Not  for  her,  indeed,  were  any 
of  those  furious  passions  that  shake  and  set  afire  the  lives 
of  men  and  women  :  her  lot  was  the  calm  and  placid  lot  of 
the  unregarded,  and  with  it  she  was  well  content. 


RES  ANGUST^E  DO  MI.  *5 

CHAPTER   III. 

RES  ANGUSTjE  DOMI. 

When  George  Rosewarne,  the  father  of  this  Miss  Wenna, 
lived  in  Eastern  Devonshire,  many  folks  thought  him  a 
fortunate  man.  He  was  the  land-steward  of  a  large  estate, 
the  owner  of  which  lived  in  Paris,  so  that  Rosewarne  was 
practically  his  own  master ;  he  had  a  young  and  pretty  wife, 
desperately  fond  of  him  ;  he  had  a  couple  of  children  and  a 
comfortable  home.  As  for  himself,  he  was  a  tall,  reddish- 
bearded,  manly-looking  fellow :  the  country  folks  called  him 
Handsome  George  as  they  saw  him  riding  his  rounds  of  a 
morning ;  and  they  thought  it  a  pity  Mrs.  Rosewarne  was 
so  often  poorly,  for  she  and  her  husband  looked  well  to- 
gether when  they  walked  to  church. 

Handsome  George  did  not  seem  much  troubled  by  his 
wife's  various  ailments;  he  would  only  give  the  curtest 
answer  when  asked  about  her  health.  Yet  he  was  not  in 
any  distinct  way  a  bad  husband.  He  was  a  man  vaguely 
unwilling  to  act  wrongly,  but  weak  in  staving  off  temptation  ; 
there  was  a  sort  of  indolent  selfishness  about  him  of  which 
he  was  scarcely  aware ;  and  to  indulge  this  selfishness  he 
was  capable  of  a  good  deal  of  petty  deceit  and  even  treachery 
of  a  sort.  It  was  not  these  failings,  however,  that  made 
the  relations  of  husband  and  wife  not  very  satisfactory. 
Mrs.  Rosewarne  was  passionately  fond  of  her  husband,  and 
proportionately  jealous  of  him.  She  was  a  woman  of  im- 
pulsive imagination  and  of  sympathetic  nature,  clever,  bright, 
and  fanciful,  well-read  and  well-taught,  and  altogther  made 
of  finer  stuff  than  Handsome  George.  But  this  passion 
of  jealousy  altogether  overmastered  her  reason.  When  she 
did  try  to  convince  herself  that  she  was  in  the  wrong,  the 
result  was  merely  that  she  resolved  to  keep  silence;  but 
this  forcible  repression  of  her  suspicions  was  worse  in  its 
effects  than  the  open  avowal  of  them.  When  the  explosion 
came,  George  Rosewarne  was  mostly  anxious  to  avoid  it. 
He  did  not  seek  to  set  matters  straight.  He  would  get  into 
a  peevish  temper  for  a  few  minutes,  and  tell  her  she  was  a 
fool  ;  then  he  would  go  out  for  the  rest  of  the  day,  and 
come  home  sulky  in  the  evening.  By  this  time  she  was 
generally  in  a  penitent  mood ;  and  there  is  nothing  an 
indolent,  sulky  person  likes  so  much  as  to  be  coaxed  and 
caressed,   with    tears  of    repentance  and  affectionate  prom* 


i6  three  Feathers. 

ises,  into  a  good  temper  again.     There  were  too  many  of 
such  scenes  in  George  Rosewarne's  home. 

Mrs.  Rosewarne  may  have  been  wrong,  but  people  began 
to  talk.  For  there  had  come  to  live  at  the  Hall  a  certain 
Mrs.  Shirley,  who  had  lately  returned  from  India,  and  was 
the  sister-in-law,  or  some  such  relation,  of  George  Rosewarne's 
master.  She  was  a  good-looking  woman  of  forty,  fresh-col- 
ored and  free-spoken,  a  little  too  fond  of  brandy-and-water, 
folks  said,  and  a  great  deal  too  fond  of  the  handsome  steward, 
who  now  spent  most  of  his  time  up  at  the  big  house.  They 
said  she  was  a  grass-widow.  They  said  there  were  reasons 
why  her  relations  wished  her  to  be  buried  down  there  in  the 
country,  where  she  received  no  company,  and  made  no  efforts 
to  get  acquainted  with  the  people  who  had  called  on  her  and 
left  their  cards.  And  amid  all  this  gossip  the  name  of 
George  Rosewarne  too  frequently  turned  up  ;  and  there  were 
nods  and  winks  when  Mrs.  Shirley  and  the  steward  were 
seen  to  be  riding  about  the  country  from  day  to  day,  presum- 
ably not  always  conversing  about  the  property. 

The  blow  fell  at  last,  and  that  in  a  fashion  that  need  not 
be  described  here.  There  was  a  wild  scene  between  two  angry 
women.  A  few  days  after  a  sallow-complexioned,  white- 
haired  old  gentleman  arrived  from  Paris,  and  was  confronted 
by  a  red-faced  fury,  who  gloried  in  her  infatuation  and  dis- 
grace, and  dared  him  to  interfere.  Then  there  was  a  sort  of 
conference  of  relatives  held  in  the  house  which  she  still  in- 
habited. The  result  of  all  this,  so  far  as  the  Rosewarnes 
were  concerned,  was  simply  that  the  relatives  of  the  woman, 
to  hush  the  matter  up  and  prevent  further  scandal,  offered  to 
purchase  for  George  Rosewarne  the  "Trelyon  Arms"  at 
Eglosilyan,  on  condition  that  he  should  immediately,  with  his 
family,  betake  himself  to  that  remote  corner  of  the  world, 
and  undertake  to  hold  no  further  communication  of  any  sort 
with  the  woman  who  still  (with  some  flash  of  rhetoric,  which 
probably  meant  nothing)  swore  she  would  follow  him  to  the 
end  of  the  earth.  George  Rosewarne  was  pleased  with  the 
offer,  and  accepted  it.  He  might  have  found  seme  difficulty 
in  discovering  another  stewardship  after  the  events  that  had 
just  occurred.  On  the  other  hand,  the  "Trelyon  Arms"  at 
Eglosilyan  was  not  a  mere  public-house.  It  was  an  old-fash- 
ioned, quaint,  and  comfortable  inn,  practically  shut  up  during 
the  winter,  and  in  the  summer  made  the  headquarters  of  a 
few  families  who  had  discovered  it,  and  who  went  there  as  regu- 
larly as  the  warm  weather  came  round.  A  few  antiquarian 
folks,  too,  and  a  stray  geologist  or  so,  generally  made  up  the 


RES  ANGUSTJE  DO  MI.  17 

family  party  that  sat  down  to  dinner  every  evening  in  the  big 
dining-room  ;  and  who  that  ever  made  one  of  the  odd  circle 
meeting  in  this  strange  and  out-of-the-way  place  ever  failed  to 
return  to  it  when  the  winter  had  finally  cleared  away  and  the 
Atlantic  gat  blue  again  ? 

George  Rosewarne  went  down  to  see  about  it.  He  found 
in  the  inn  an  efficient  housekeeper,  who  was  thoroughly 
mistress  of  her  duties  and  of  the  servants,  so  that  he  should 
have  no  great  trouble  about  it,  even  though  his  wife  were  too 
ill  to  help.  As  for  his  daughters,  he  resolved  that  they  should 
have  nothing  whatsoever  to  do  with  the  inn  ;  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, be  trained  in  all  the  ordinary  accomplishments  of  young 
ladies ;  for  he  was  rather  a  proud  man.  And  so  the  Rose- 
warnes  were  drafted  down  to  the  Cornish  coast ;  and  as  Mrs. 
Rosewarne  was  of  Cornish  birth,  and  as  she  had  given  both 
her  daughters  Cornish  names  they  gradually  ceased  to  be  re- 
garded as  strangers.  They  made  many  acquaintances  and 
friends.  Mrs.  Rosewarne  was  a  bright,  rapid,  and  playful 
talker;  a  woman  of  considerable  reading  and  intelligence, 
and  a  sympathetic  listener.  Her  husband  knew  ail  about 
horses  and  dogs  and  farming,  and  what  not ;  so  that  young 
Harry  Trelyon,  for  example,  was  in  the  habit  of  consulting 
him  almost  daily. 

They  had  a  little  parlor  abutting  on  what  once  had  been  a 
bar,  and  here  one  or  two  friends  sometimes  dropped  in  to 
have  a  chat.  There  was  a  bar  no  longer.  The  business  of 
the  inn  was  conducted  overhead,  and  was  exclusively  of  the 
nature  described  above.  The  pot-house  of  Eglosilyan  was 
the  Napoleon  Hotel  a  dilapidated  place,  half-way  up  one  of 
the  steep  streets. 

But  in  leaving  Devonshire  for  Cornwall  the  Rosewarnes 
had  carried  with  them  a  fatal  inheritance.  They  could  not 
leave  behind  them  the  memory  of  the  circumstances  that  had 
caused  their  flight ;  and  ever  and  anon,  as  something  occurred 
to  provoke  her  suspicions,  Mrs.  Rosewarne  would  break 
out  again  into  a  passion  of  jealousy,  and  demand  explana- 
tions and  reassurances,  which  her  husband  half-indolently 
and  half-sulkily  refused.  There  was  but  one  hand  then — one 
voice  that  could  still  the  raging  waters.  Wenna  Rosewarne 
knew  nothing  of  that  Devonshire  story,  any  more  than  her 
sister  or  the  neighbors  did  ;  but  she  saw  that  her  mother  had 
defects  of  temper,  that  she  was  irritable,  unreasonable,  and 
suspicious,  and  she  saw  that  her  father  was  inconsiderately 
indifferent  and  harsh.  It  was  a  hard  task  to  reconcile  these 
two  ;  but  the  girl  had  all  the  patience  of  a  born  peacemaker  ; 


IS  THREE  FEATHERS. 

and  patience  is  the  more  necessary  to  the  settlement  of  such 
a  dispute,  in  that  it  is  generally  impossible  for  any  human 
being,  outside  the  two  who  are  quarrelling,  to  discover  any 
ground  for  the  quarrel. 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter,  mother  ? "  she  said  on  this  occa- 
sion, taking  off  her  hat  and  shawl  as  if  she  had  heard  nothing 
about  it.     "  I  do  think  you  have  been  crying." 

The  pretty,  pale  woman,  with  the  large  black  eyes  and 
smoothly  brushed  dark  hair,  threw  a  volume  on  the  table, 
and  said,  with  a  sort  of  half-hysterical  laugh,  "  How  stupid  it 
is,  Wenna,  to  cry  over  the  misfortunes  of  people  in  books, 
isn't  it  ? " 

That  pretence  would  not  have  deceived  Miss  Wenna  in 
any  case,  but  now  she  was  to  receive  other  testimony  to  the 
truth  of  Mr.  Trelyon's  report.  There  was  seated  at  the  win- 
dow of  the  room  a  tall  and  strikingly  handsome  young  girl  of 
sixteen,  whose  almost  perfect  profile  was  clearly  seen  against 
the  light.  Just  at  this  moment  she  rose  and  stepped  across 
the  room  to  the  door,  and  as  she  went  by  she  said,  with  just 
a  trace  of  contemptuous  indifference  on  the  proud  and  beau- 
tiful face,  "  It  is  only  another  quarrel,  Wenna." 

"  Mother,"  said  the  girl,  when  her  sister  had  gone,  "tell 
me  what  it  is  about.  What  have  you  said  to  father  ?  Where 
is  he  ? " 

There  was  an  air  of  quiet  decision  about  her  that  did  not 
detract  from  the  sympathy  visible  in  her  face.  Mrs.  Rose- 
warne  began  to  cry  again.  Then  she  took  her  daughter's 
hand,  and  made  her  sit  down  by  her,  and  told  her  all  her 
troubles.  What  was  the  girl  to  make  of  it  ?  It  was  the  old 
story  of  suspicion  and  challenging  and  sulky  denial,  and  then 
hot  words  and  anger.  She  could  make  out,  at  least,  that  her 
mother  had  first  been  made  anxious  about  something  he  had 
inadvertently  said  about  his  visit  to  Plymouth  on  the  previous 
two  days.  In  reply  to  her  questions  he  had  grown  peevishly 
vague,  and  had  then  spoken  in  bravado  of  the  pleasant  even- 
ing he  had  spent  at  the  theatre.  Wenna  reasoned  with  her 
mother,  and  pleaded  with  her,  and  at  last  exercised  a  little 
authority  over  her;  at  the  end  of  which  she  agreed  that,  if 
her  husband  would  tell  her  with  whom  he  had  been  to  the 
theatre,  she  would  be  satisfied,  would  speak  no  more  on  the 
subject,  and  would  even  formally  beg  his  forgiveness. 

"  Because,  mother,  I  have  something  to  tell  you,"  the 
daughter  said,  "when  you  are  all  quite  reconciled." 

"  Was  it  in  the  letter  you  read  just  now  ?  " 

"Yes,  mother." 


RES  ANGUSTM  DOML 


13 


The  girl  still  held  the  letter  in  her  hand.  It  was  lying  on 
the  table  when  she  came  in,  but  she  had  not  opened  it  and 
glanced  over  the  contents  until  she  saw  that  her  mother  was 
yielding  to  her  prayers. 

"  It  is  from  Mr.  Roscorla,  Wenna,"  the  mother  said ;  and 
now  she  saw,  as  she  might  have  seen  before,  that  her  daugh- 
ter was  a  little  paler  than  usual,  and  somewhat  agitated. 

"  Yes,  mother." 

"  What  is  it,  then  ?     You  look  frightened." 

"I  must  settle  this  matter  first,"  said  the  girl,  calmly;  and 
then  she  folded  up  the  letter,  and,  still  holding  it  in  her  hand, 
went  off  to  find  her  father. 

George  Rosewarne,  seeking  calm  after  the  storm,  was 
seated  on  a  large  and  curiously  carved  bench  of  Spanish  oak 
placed  by  the  door  of  the  inn.  He  was  smoking  his  pipe, 
and  lazily  looking  at  some  pigeons  that  were  flying  about  the 
mill  and  occasionally  alighting  on  the  roof.  In  the  calm  of 
the  midsummer's  day  there  was  no  sound  but  the  incessant 
throbbing  of  the  big  wheel  over  there  and  the  plash  of  the 
water. 

"Now,  don't  bother  me,  Wenna,"  he  said,  the  moment  he 
saw  her  approach.  "  I  know  you've  come  to  make  a  fuss. 
You  mind  your  own  business." 

"  Mother  is  very  sorry — "  the  girl  was  beginning  in  a  meek 
way,  when  he  interrupted  her  rudely. 

"  I  tell  you  to  mind  your  own  business.  I  must  have  an 
end  of  this.     I  have  stood  it  long  enough.     Do  you  hear  ?  " 

But  she  did  not  go  away.  She  stood  there,  with  her  quiet, 
patient  face,  not  heeding  his  angry  looks. 

"  Father,  don't  be  hard  on  her.  She  is  very  sorry.  She 
is  willing  to  beg  your  pardon  if  you  wh\  only  tell  her  who 
went  to  the  theatre  with  you  at  Plymouth,  and  relieve  her 
from  this  anxiety.  This  is  all.  Father,  who  went  to  the 
theatre  with  you  ? " 

"  Oh,  go  away  !  "  he  said,  relapsing  into  a  sulky  condition. 
"  You're  growing  up  to  be  just  such  another  as  your  mother." 

"  I  cannot  wish  for  any  thing  better,"  the  girl  said,  mildly. 
"  She  is  a  good  woman,  and  she  loves  you  dearly." 

"  Why,"  he  said,  turning  suddenly  upon  her,  and  speaking 
in  an  injured  way,  "no  one  went  with  me  to  the  theatre  at 
Plymouth  !  Did  I  say  that  any  body  did  ?  Surely  a  man  must 
do  something  to  spend  the  evening  if  he  is  by  himself  in  a 
strange  town." 

Wenna  put  her  hand  on  her  father's  shoulder,  and  said, 
"  Da,  why  didn't  you  take  me  to  Plymouth  ?  " 


20  THREE  FEA  TITERS. 

"  Well,  I  will  next  time.  You're  a  good  lass,"  he  said,  still 
in  the  same  sulky  way. 

"  Now  come  in  and  make  it  up  with  mother.  She  is  anxious 
to  make  it  up." 

He  looked  at  his  pipe. 

"  In  a  few  minutes,  Wenna.     When  I  finish  my  pipe." 

"  She  is  waiting  now,"  said  the  girl,  quietly ;  and  with  that 
her  father  burst  into  a  loud  laugh,  and  got  up  and  shrugged 
his  shoulders  ;  and  then,  taking  his  daughter  by  the  ear,  and 
saying  that  she  was  a  sly  little  cat,  he  walked  into  the  house 
and  into  the  room  where  his  wife  awaited  him. 

Meanwhile  Wenna  Rosewarne  had  stolen  off  to  her  own 
little  room,  and  there  she  sat  down  at  the  window,  and  with 
trembling  fingers  took  out  a  letter  and  began  to  read  it.  It 
was  certainly  a  document  of  some  length,  consisting,  indeed, 
of  four  large  pages  of  blue  paper,  covered  with  a  small,  neat, 
and  precise  handwriting.  She  had  not  got  on  very  far  with  it, 
when  the  door  of  the  room  was  opened,  and  Mrs.  Rosewarne 
appeared,  the  pale  face  and  large  dark  eyes  being  now  filled 
with  a  radiant  pleasure.  Her  husband  had  said  something 
friendly  to  her;  and  the  quick,  imaginative  nature  had  leaped 
to  the  conclusion  that  all  was  right  again,  and  that  there  were 
to  be  no  more  needless  quarrels. 

"  And  now,  Wenna,"  she  said,  sitting  down  by  the  girl,  "what 
is  it  all  about  ?  and  why  did  you  look  so  frightened  a  few 
minutes  ago  ?  " 

"  Oh,  mother !  "  the  girl  said,  "  this  is  a  letter  from  Mr.  Ros- 
corla,  and  he  wants  me  to  marry  him." 

"  Mr.  Roscorla  !  "  cried  the  mother,  in  blank  amazement. 
"  Who  ever  dreamed  of  such  a  thing  ?  and  what  do  you  say, 
Wenna  ?  What  do  you  think  ?  What  answer  will  you  send 
him  ?  Dear  me,  to  think  of  Mr.  Roscorla  taking  a  wife,  and 
wanting  to  have  our  Wenna,  too  !  " 

She  began  to  tell  her  mother  something  of  the  letter,  reading 
it  carefully  to  herself,  and  then  repeating  aloud  some  brief 
suggestion  of  what  she  had  read,  to  let  her  mother  know  what 
were  the  arguments  that  Mr.  Roscorla  employed.  And  it  was, 
on  the  whole,  an  argumentative  letter,  and  much  more  calm 
and  lucid  and  reasonable  than  most  letters  are  which  contain 
offers  of  marriage.     Mr.  Roscorla  wrote  thus  : 

"  Basset  Cottage,  Eglosilyan,_/«/j/  18,  18 — . 
"  My  Dear  Miss  Wenna, — 

"  I  fear  that  this  letter  may  surprise  you,  but  I  hope  you 
will  read  it  through  without  alarm  or  indignation,  and  deal 


RES  ANGUST^E  DOMI.  21 

fairly  and  kindly  with  what  it  has  to  say.  Perhaps  you  will 
think,  when  you  have  read  it,  that  I  ought  to  have  come  to 
you  and  said  the  things  that  it  says.  But  I  wish  to  put  these 
things  before  you  in  as  simple  a  manner  as  I  can,  which  is 
best  done  by  writing  ;  and  a  letter  will  have  this  advantage 
that  you  can  recur  to  it  at  any  moment,  if  there  is  some  point 
on  which  you  are  in  doubt. 

"  The  object,  then,  of  this  letter  is  lo  ask  you  to  become 
my  wife,  and  to  put  before  you  a  few  considerations  which 
I  hope  will  have  some  little  influence  in  determining  your 
answer.  You  will  be  surprised,  no  doubt ;  for  though  you 
must  be  well  aware  that  I  could  perceive  the  graces  of  your 
character — the  gentleness  and  charity  of  heart  and  modesty 
of  demeanor  that  have  endeared  you  to  the  whole  of  the 
people  among  whom  you  live — you  may  fairly  say  that  I 
never  betrayed  my  admiration  of  you  in  word  or  deed ; 
and  that  is  true.  I  cannot  precisely  tell  you  why  I  should 
be  more  distant  in  manner  towards  her  whom  I  preferred 
to  all  the  world  than  to  her  immediate  friends  and  associ- 
ates for  whom  I  cared  much  less ;  but  such  is  the  fact. 
I  could  talk  and  joke  and  spend  a  pleasant  afternoon  in  the 
society  of  your  sister  Mabyn,  for  example  ;  I  could  ask  her  to 
accept  a  present  from  me  ;  I  could  write  letters  to  her  when 
I  was  in  London  ;  but  with  you  all  was  different.  Perhaps  it 
is  because  you  are  so  fine  and  shy,  because  there  is  so  much 
sensitiveness  in  your  look,  that  I  have  almost  been  afraid  to 
go  near  you,  lest  you  should  shrink  from  some  rude  intimation 
of  that  which  I  now  endeavor  to  break  to  you  gently — my 
wish  and  earnest  hope  that  you  may  become  my  wife.  I 
trust  I  have  so  far  explained  what  perhaps  you  may  have 
considered  coldness  on  my  part. 

"  I  am  a  good  deal  older  than  you  are ;  and  I  cannot  pre- 
tend to  offer  you  that  fervid  passion  which,  to  the  imagin- 
ation of  the  young,  seems  the  only  thing  worth  living  for, 
and  one  of  the  necessary  conditions  of  marriage.  On  the 
other  hand,  I  cannot  expect  the  manifestation  of  any  such 
passion  on  your  side,  even  if  I  had  any  wish  for  it.  But  on 
this  point  I  should  like  to  make  a  few  observations  which  I 
hope  will  convince  you  that  my  proposal  is  not  so  unreason- 
able as  it  may  have  seemed  at  first  sight.  When  I  look  over 
the  list  of  all  my  friends  who  have  married,  whom  do  I  find 
to  be  living  the  happiest  life  ?  Not  they  who  as  boy  and  girl 
were  carried  away  by  a  romantic  idealism  which  seldom  lasts 
beyond  a  few  weeks  after  marriage,  but  those  who  had  wisely 
chosen  partners  fitted  to  become    their  constant  and  affec* 


22  THREE  FEATHERS. 

tionate  friends.  It  is  this  possibility  of  friendship,  indeed, 
which  is  the  very  basis  of  a  happy  marriage.  The  ro- 
mance and  passion  of  love  soon  depart ;  then  the  man  and 
woman  find  themselves  living  in  the  same  house,  dependent 
on  each  other's  character,  intelligence,  and  disposition,  and 
bound  by  inexorable  ties.  If,  in  these  circumstances,  they 
can  be  good  friends,  it  is  well  with  them.  If  they  admire 
each  other's  thoughts  and  feelings,  if  they  are  generously 
considerate  towards  each  other's  weaknesses,  if  tney  have 
pleasure  in  each  other's  society — if,  in  short,  they  find  them- 
selves bound  to  each  other  by  ties  of  a  true  and  disinterested 
friendship,  the  world  has  been  good  to  them.  I  say  nothing 
against  that  period  of  passion  which,  in  some  rare  and 
fortunate  instances,  precedes  this  infinitely  longer  period  of 
friendship.  You  would  accuse  me  of  the  envy  of  an  elderly 
man  if  I  denied  that  it  has  its  romantic  aspects.  But  how 
very  temporary  these  are !  How  dangerous  they  are  too  ! 
The  passion  of  a  young  man,  as  I  have  seen  it  displayed  in  a 
thousand  instances,  is  not  a  thing  to  be  desired.  It  is  cruel 
in  its  jealousy,  exacting  in  its  demands,  heedless  in  its 
impetuosity  ;  and  when  it  has  burned  itself  out — when  nothing 
remains  but  ashes  and  an  empty  fireplace — who  is  to  say  that 
the  capacity  for  a  firm  and  lasting  friendship  will  survive  ? 
But  perhaps  you  fancy  that  this  passionate  love  may  last  for- 
ever. Will  you  forgive  me,  dear  Miss  Wenna,  if  I  say  that 
that  is  the  dream  of  a  girl  ?  In  such  rare  cases  as  I  have  seen, 
this  perpetual  ardor  of  love  was  anything  but  a  happiness  to 
those  concerned.  The  freaks  of  jealousy  on  the  part  of  a 
boy  and  girl  who  think  of  getting  married  are  but  occasions 
for  the  making  of  quarrels  and  the  delight  of  reconciliation  ; 
but  a  life-long  jealousy  involves  a  torture  to  both  husband 
and  wife  to  which  death  would  be  preferable." 

At  this  point  Wenna's  cheeks  burned  red;  she  was  silent 
for  a  time,  and  her  mother  wondered  why  she  skipped  so 
long  a  passage  without  saying  a  word. 

"  I  have  used  all  the  opportunities  within  my  reach,"  the 
letter  continued,  "  to  form  a  judgment  of  your  character  ;  I 
know  something  of  my  own  ;  and  I  sincerely  believe  that  we 
could  live  a  happy  and  pleasant  life  together.  It  is  a  great 
sacrifice  I  ask  of  you,  I  own  ;  but  you  would  not  find  me  slow 
to  repay  you  in  gratitude.  I  am  almost  alone  in  the  world ; 
the  few  relatives  I  have  I  never  see  ;  I  have  scarcely  a  friend 
or  acquaintance  except  those  I  meet  under  your  father's 
hospitable  roof.  I  cannot  conceal  from  myself  that  I  should 
be  by  far  the  greater  gainer  by  such  a  marriage :   I  should 


RES  ANGUST^E  DO  MI. 


23 


secure  for  myself  a  pleasant,  intelligent,  and  amiable 
companion,  who  would  brighten  my  home,  and  in  time,  I 
doubt  not,  soften  and  sweeten  those  views  of  the  world  that 
are  naturally  formed  by  a  middle-aged  man  living  alone  and 
in  privacy.  What  can  I  offer  you  in  return  ?  Not  much — 
except  the  opportunity  of  adding  one  more  to  the  many  good 
deeds  that  seem  to  be  the  chief  occupation  of  your  life.  And 
I  should  be  glad  if  you  would  let  me  help  you  in  that  way, 
and  give  you  the  aid  of  advice  which  might,  perhaps,  temper 
your  generosity  and  apply  it  to  its  best  uses.  You  are  aware 
that  I  have  no  occupation — and  scarcely  a  hobby  ;  I  should 
make  it  my  occupation,  my  constant  endeavor  and  pleasure, 
to  win  and  secure  your  affection — to  make  the  ordinary  little 
cares  and  duties  of  life,  in  which  you  take  so  great  an 
interest,  smooth  and  pleasant  to  you.  In  short,  I  should  try 
to  make  you  happy ;  not  in  any  frantic  and  wild  way,  but  by 
the  exercise  of  a  care  and  affection  and  guardianship  by 
which  I  hope  we  should  both  profit.  May  I  point  out,  also, 
that,  as  a  married  woman,  you  would  have  much  more 
influence  among  the  poorer  families  in  the  village  who  take 
up  so  much  of  your  attention  ;  and  you  would  be  removed, 
too,  if  I  may  mention  such  a  thing,  from  certain  unhappy 
circumstances  which  I  fear  trouble  you  greatly  at  times. 
But  perhaps  I  should  not  have  referred  to  this ;  I  would 
rather  seek  to  press  my  claim  on  the  ground  of  the  happi- 
ness you  would  thereby  confer  on  others,  which  I  know  to  be 
your  chief  object  in  life. 

"  I  have  not  said  half  what  I  intended  to  say ;  but  I  must 
not  fatigue  you.  Perhaps  you  will  give  me  an  opportunity  of 
telling  you  personally  what  I  think  of  yourself,  for  I  cannot 
bring  myself  to  write  it  in  bald  words ;  and  if  you  should  be 
in  doubt,  give  me  the  benefit  of  the  doubt,  and  let  me  explain. 
I  do  not  ask  you  for  a  hurried  answer;  but  I  should  be  glad 
if,  out  of  the  kindness  of  all  your  ways,  you  would  send  me 
one  line  soon,  merely  to  say  that  I  have  not  offended  you. 
"  I  am,  my  dear  Miss  Rosewarne, 
"  Yours  most  sincerely, 

"  Richard  Roscorla." 

"  Oh  !  what  must  I  do,  mother  ?  "  the  girl  cried.  "  Is  it  all 
true  that  he  says  ?  " 

"  My  dear  child,  there  is  a  great  deal  of  common-sense  in 
the  letter,"  the  mother  replied,  calmly ;  "  but  you  needn't 
decide  all  at  once.  Take  plenty  of  time.  I  suppose  you 
don't  dislike  Mr.  Roscorla  ?  " 


24  THREE  FEATHERS. 

"  Oh,  not  at  all — not  at  all  !     But  then,  to  marry  him — !  " 

"  If  you  don't  wish  to  marry  him,  no  harm  is  done,"  Mrs. 
Rosewarne  said.  "  I  cannot  advise  you,  Wenna.  Your  own 
feelings  must  settle  the  question.  But  you  ought  to  be  very 
proud  of  the  offer,  anyway ;  and  you  must  thank  him  prop- 
erly ;  for  Mr.  Roscorla  is  a  gentleman,  although  he  is  not  as 
rich  as  his  relations  ;  and  it  is  a  great  honor  he  has  done  you. 
Of  course,  Wenna,  if  you  were  in  love  with  any  one — if  there 
was  any  young  man  about  here  whom  you  would  like  to 
marry — there  would  be  no  need  for  you  to  be  frightened 
about  what  Mr.  Roscorla  says  of  young  folks  being  in  love.  It 
is  a  trying  time,  to  be  sure.  It  has  many  troubles.  Perhaps, 
after  all,  a  quiet  and  peaceful  life  is  better,  especially  for  you, 
Wenna,  for  you  were  always  quiet  and  peaceful,  and  if  any 
trouble  came  over  you  it  would  break  your  heart.  I  think  it 
would  be  better  for  you  if  you  were  never  tried  in  that  way, 
Wenna." 

The  girl  rose,  with  a  sigh. 

"  Not  that  it  is  my  advice,  Wenna,"  said  the  mother  anx- 
iously. "  But  you  are  of  that  nature,  you  see.  If  you  were 
in  love  with  a  young  man,  you  would  be  his  slave.  If  he 
ceased  to  care  for  you,  or  were  cruel  to  you,  it  would  kill  you, 
my  dear.  Well,  you  see,  here  is  a  man  who  would  be  able  to 
take  care  of  you,  and  of  your  sister  Mabyn,  too,  if  anything 
happened  to  your  father  or  me  ;  and  he  would  make  much  of 
you,  I  have  no  doubt,  and  be  very  kind  to  you.  You  are 
not  like  other  girls,  Wenna — " 

"  I  know  that,  mother,"  said  the  girl,  with  a  strange  sort  of 
smile  that  just  trembled  on  the  verge  of  tears.  "They  can't 
all  be  as  plain  as  I  am." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mean  that !  You  make  a  great  mistake  if 
you  think  that  men  care  only  for  doll-faces — as  Mr.  Roscorla 
says,  that  fancy  does  not  last  long  after  marriage,  and  then 
men  begin  to  ask  whether  their  wives  are  clever  and  amusing 
and  well-informed,  and  so  on.  What  I  meant  was,  that  most 
girls  could  run  the  gauntlet  of  that  sort  of  love  that  Mr.  Ros- 
corla describes,  and  suffer  little  if  they  made  a  mistake.  But 
there's  no  shell  about  you,  Wenna.  You  are  quite  undefended, 
sensitive,  and  timid.  People  are  deceived  by  your  quick  wit 
and  your  cheerfulness  and  your  singing.  I  know  better.  I 
know  that  a  careless  word  may  cut  you  deeply.  And  dear, 
dear  me,  what  a  terrible  time  that  is  when  all  your  life  seems 
to  hang  on  the  way  a  word  is  spoken  ! " 

The  girl  crossed  over  to  a  small  side-table,  on  which  there 
was  a  writing-desk. 


RES  ANGUSTyE  DOMI.  25 

"  But  mind,  Wenna,"  said  her  mother,  with  a  return  of 
anxiety — "  mind,  I  don't  say  that  to  influence  your  decision. 
Don't  be  influenced  by  me.  Consult  your  own  feelings,  dear. 
You  know  I  fancy  sometimes  you  undervalue  yourself,  and 
think  that  no  one  cares  about  you,  and  that  you  have  no 
claim  to  be  thought  much  of.  Well,  that  is  a  great  mistake, 
Wenna.  You  must  not  throw  yourself  away  through  that 
notion.  I  wish  all  the  girls  about  were  as  clever  and  good- 
natured  as  you.  But  at  the  same  time,  you  know,  there  are 
few  girls  I  know,  and  certainly  none  about  here,  who  would 
consider  it  throwing  themselves  away  to  marry  Mr.  Roscorla." 

"Marry  Mr.  Roscorla!"  a  third  voice  exclaimed;  and  at 
the  same  moment  Mabyn  Rosewarne  entered  the  room. 

She  looked  at  her  mother  and  sister  with  astonishment. 
She  saw  that  Wenna  was  writing,  and  that  she  was  very  pale. 
She  saw  a  blue-colored  letter  lying  beside  her.  Then  the 
proud  young  beauty  understood  the  situation ;  and  with  her 
to  perceive  a  thing  was  to  act  on  its  suggestion  there  and 
then. 

"  Our  Wenna  !  Marry  that  old  man  !  Oh,  mother  !  how 
can  you  let  her  do  such  a  thing  ?  " 

She  walked  right  over  to  the  small  table,  with  a  glow  of  in- 
dignation in  her  face,  and  with  her  lips  set  firm,  and  her  eyes 
full  of  fire  ;  and  then  she  caught  up  the  letter,  that  had 
scarcely  been  begun,  and  tore  it  in  a  thousand  pieces,  and 
flung  the  pieces  on  the  floor. 

"  Oh,  mother  !  how  could  you  let  her  do  it  ?  Mr.  Roscorla 
marry  our  Wenna  !  " 

She  took  two  or  three  steps  up  and  down  the  room,  in  a 
pretty  passion  of  indignation,  and  yet  trying  to  keep  her  proud 
eyes  free  from  tears. 

"  Mother,  if  you  do,  I'll  go  into  a  convent !  I'll  go  to  sea, 
and  never  come  back  again  !  I  won't  stop  in  the  house — not 
one  minute — if  Wenna  goes  away  !  " 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  the  mother,  patiently,  "  it  is  not  my 
doing.  You  must  not  be  so  rash.  Mr.  Roscorla  is  not  an 
old  man — nothing  of  the  sort  ;  if  he  does  offer  to  marry 
Wenna,  it  is  a  great  honor  done  to  her,  I  think.  She  ought 
to  be  very  grateful,  as  I  hope  you  will  be,  Mabyn,  when  any 
one  offers  to  marry  you — " 

Miss  Mabyn  drew  herself  up  ;  and  her  pretty  mouth  lost 
none  of  its  scorn. 

"  And  as  for  Wenna,"  the  mother  said,  "  she  must  judge 
for  herself — " 

"  Oh,  but  she's  not  fit  to  judge  for  herself  ! "  broke  in  the 


26  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

younger  sister  impetuously.  "  She  will  do  anything  that  any- 
body wants.  She  would  make  herself  the  slave  of  anybody. 
She  is  always  being  imposed  on.  Just  wait  a  moment,  and  / 
will  answer  Mr.  Roscorla's  letter !  " 

She  walked  over  to  the  table  again,  twisted  round  the  writ- 
ing-desk, and  quickly  pulled  in  a  chair.  You  wrould  have 
thought  that  the  pale,  dark-eyed  little  girl  on  the  other  side 
of  the  table  had  no  will  of  her  own — that  she  was  in  the  habit 
of  obeying  this  beautiful  young  termagant  of  a  sister  of  hers ; 
but  Miss  Mabyn's  bursts  of  impetuosity  were  no  match  for 
the  gentle  firmness  and  patience  that  were  invariably  opposed 
to  them.  In  this  instance  Mr.  Roscorla  was  not  to  be  the  re- 
cipient of  a  letter  which  doubtless  would  have  astonished 
him. 

"•Mabyn,"  said  her  sister  Wenna,  quietly,  "  don't  be  fool- 
ish. I  must  write  to  Mr.  Roscorla — but  only  to  tell  him  that 
I  have  received  his  letter.  Give  me  the  pen.  And  will  you 
go  and  ask  Mrs.  Borlase  if  she  can  spare  me  Jennifer  for  a 
quarter  of  an  hour,  to  go  up  to  Basset  Cottage  ?  " 

Mabyn  rose,  silent,  disappointed,  and  obedient,  but  not 
subdued.  She  went  off  to  execute  the  errand  ;  but  as  she 
went  she  said  to  herself,  with  her  head  very  erect,  "  Before 
Mr.  Roscorla  marries  our  Wenna,  I  will  have  a  word  to  say 
to  him." 

Meanwhile  Wenna  Rosewarne,  apparently  quite  calm,  but 
with  her  hand  trembling  so  that  she  could  hardly  hold  the 
pen,  wrote  her  first  love-letter ;  and  it  ran  thus  : 

"  Trelyon  Arms,  Tuesday  Afternoon. 

"  Dear  Mr.  Roscorla, — 

"  I  have  received  your  letter,  and  you  must  not  think  me 
offended.  I  will  try  to  send  you  an  answer  to-morrow ;  or 
perhaps  the  day  after,  or  perhaps  on  Friday;  I  will  try  to  send 
you  an  answer  to  your  letter. 

"  I  am  yours  sincerely, 

"  Wenna  Rosewarne." 

She  took  it  timidly  to  her  mother,  who  smiled,  and  said  it 
was  a  little  incoherent. 

"  But  I  cannot  write  it  again,  mother,"  the  girl  said. 
"  Will  you  give  it  to  Jennifer  when  she  comes  ? " 

Little  did  Miss  Wenna  notice  of  the  beautiful  golden  after- 
noon that  was  shining  over  Eglosilyan  as  she  left  the  inn  and 
stole  away  out  to  the  rocks  at  the  mouth  of  the  little  harbor. 
She  spoke  to  her  many  acquaintances  as  she  passed,  and  could 


RES  ANGUS  T^G  DOMI.  27 

not  have  told  a  minute  thereafter  that  she  had  seen  them. 
She  said  a  word  or  two  to  the  coastguardsman  out  at  the 
point — an  old  friend  of  hers — and  then  she  went  round  to  the 
seaward  side  of  the  rocks,  and  sat  down  to  think  the  whole 
matter  over.  The  sea  was  as  still  as  a  sea  in  a  dream. 
There  was  but  one  ship  visible,  away  down  in  the  south,  a 
brown  speck  in  a  flood  of  golden  haze. 

When  the  first  startled  feeling  was  over — when  she  had  re- 
covered from  the  absolute  fright  that  so  sudden  a  proposal 
had  caused  her — something  of  pride  and  pleasure  crept  into 
her  heart  to  know  that  she  was  not  quite  the  insignificant  per- 
son she  had  fancied  herself  to  be.  Was  it  true,  then,  what 
he  had  said  about  her  being  of  some  use  to  the  people  around 
her  ?  Did  they  really  care  for  her  ?  Had  she  really  won  the 
respect  and  approval  of  a  man  who  had  hitherto  seemed  to 
her  suspicious  and  censorious  ? 

There  flashed  upon  her  some  faint  picture  of  herself  as  a 
matron,  and  she  found  herself  blushing  to  think  of  herself 
going  round  the  cottages  as  Mrs.  Roscorla,  and  acting  the 
part  of  a  little  married  woman.  If  marriage  meant  no  more 
than  that,  she  was  not  afraid  of  it ;  on  the  contrary,  the  pros- 
pect rather  pleased  her.  These  were  duties  she  could  un- 
derstand. Marriage,  in  those  idle  day-dreams  of  hers,  had 
seemed  to  her  some  vague  and  distant  and  awful  thing ;  all 
the  romance  and  worship  and  noble  surrender  of  it  being  far 
away  from  a  poor  little  plain  person,  not  capable  of  inspiring 
idealism  in  anybody.  But  this,  on  the  other  hand,  seemed 
easily  within  her  reach.  She  became  rather  amused  with  the 
picture  which  she  drew  of  herself  as  Mrs.  Roscorla.  Her 
quick  fancy  put  in  humorous  touches  here  and  there,  until  she 
found  herself  pretty  nearly  laughing  at  a  tiny  married 
woman.  For  what  did  the  frank-spoken  heroine  of  that 
sailor-ballad  say  to  her  lover  ?  If  he  would  be  faithful  and 
kind — 

"  Nor  your  Molly  forsake, 
Still  your  trousers  I'll  wash,  and  your  grog,  too,  I'll  make." 

As  for  his  grog,  would  she  mix  the  proper  quantities,  as  they 
sat  together  of  an  evening,  by  themselves,  in  that  little  par- 
lor up  at  Basset  Cottage  ?  And  would  she  have  to  take  his 
arm  as  they  walked  of  a  Sunday  morning  to  church,  up  the 
main  street  of  Eglosilyan,  where  all  her  old  friends,  the 
children,  would  be  looking  at  her  ?  And  would  she  some 
day,  with  all  the  airs  and  counsels  of  a  married  woman,  have 
to  take  Mabyn  to  her  arms,  and  bid  the  younger  sister  have 


28  THREE  FEATHERS. 

confidence,  and  listen  to  all  the  story  of  Mabyn's  wonder  and 
delight  over  the  new  and  strange  love  that  had  come  into  her 
heart  ?  And  would  she  ask  Mabyn  to  describe  her  lover  ? 
and  would  she  act  the  ordinary  part  of  an  experienced  ad- 
viser, and  bid  her  be  cautious,  and  ask  her  to  wait  until  the 
young  man  had  made  a  position  in  the  world,  and  had  proved 
himself  prudent  and  sensible  and  of  steady  mind  ?  Or  would 
she  not  rather  fling  her  arms  round  her  sister's  neck,  and  bid 
her  go  down  on  her  knees  and  thank  God  for  having  made 
her  so  beautiful,  and  bid  her  cherish  as  the  one  good  thing 
in  all  the  world  the  strong  and  yearning  love  and  admiration 
and  worship  of  a  young  and  wondering  soul  ? 

Wenna  Rosewarne  had  been  amusing  herself  with  these 
pictures  of  herself  as  a  married  woman  ;  but  she  was  crying 
ail  the  same  ;  and  becoming  a  little  impatient  with  herself, 
and  perhaps  a  trifle  hysterical,  she  rose  from  the  rocks  and 
thought  she  would  go  home  again.  She  had  scarcely  turned 
however,  when  she  met  Mr.  Roscorla  himself,  who  had  seen 
her  at  a  distance,  and  followed  her. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  LAST  LOOK  BACK. 

Mr.  Roscorla  may  be  recommended  to  ladies  generally, 
and  to  married  men  who  are  haunted  by  certain  vague  and 
vain  regrets,  as  an  excellent  example  of  the  evils  and  vanity 
of  club  life.  He  was  now  a  man  approaching  fifty,  careful 
in  dress  and  manner,  methodical  in  habit,  and  grave  of  as- 
pect, living  out  a  not  over-enjoyable  life  in  a  solitary  little 
cottage,  and  content  to  go  for  his  society  to  the  good  folks  of 
the  village  inn.  But  five-and-twenty  years  before  he  had 
been  a  gay  young  fellow  about  town,  a  pretty  general  favor- 
ite, clever  in  his  way,  free  with  his  money,  and  possessed  of 
excellent  spirits.  He  was  not  very  wealthy,  to  be  sure  ;  his 
father  had  left  him  certain  shares  in  some  plantations  in  Ja- 
maica,'but  the  returns  periodically  forwarded  to  him  by  his 
agents  were  sufficient  for  his  immediate  wants.  He  had  few 
cares,  and  he  seemed  on  the  whole  to  have  a  pleasant  time 
of  it.  On  disengaged  evenings  he  lounged  about  his  club, 
and  dined  with  one  or  other  of  the  men  he  knew,  and 
then  he  played  billiards  till  bed-time.  Or  he  would  have 
nice  little  dinner-parties  at  his  rooms ;  and  after  the  men  had 


THE  LAST  LOOK  BACK.  29 

changed  their  coats,  would  have  a  few  games  at  whist,  per- 
haps finishing  up  with  a  little  spurt  of  unlimited  loo.  In  the 
season  he  went  to  balls  and  dinners  and  parties  of  all  sorts, 
singling  out  a  few  families  with  pretty  daughters  for  his  espe- 
cial attentions,  but  careful  never  to  commit  himself.  When 
every  one  went  from  town  he  went  too,  and  in  the  autumn 
and  winter  months  he  had  a  fair  amount  of  shooting  and 
hunting,  guns  and  horses  alike,  and  willingly  furnished  him 
by  his  friends. 

Once,  indeed,  he  had  taken  a  fancy  that  he  ought  to  do 
something,  and  he  went  and  read  law  a  bit,  and  ate  some 
dinners,  and  got  called  to  the  Bar.  He  even  went  the  length 
of  going  on  Circuit ;  but  either  he  travelled  by  coach,  or  fra- 
ternized with  a  solicitor,  or  did  something  objectionable ;  at 
all  events  his  Circuit  mess  fined  him  :  he  refused  to  pay  the 
fine,  threw  the  whole  thing  up,  and  returned  to  his  club  and 
its  carefully  ordered  dinners,  and  its  friendly  game  of  six- 
penny and  eighteen-penny  pool. 

Of  course  he  dressed  and  acted  and  spoke  just  as  his 
fellows  did,  and  gradually  from  the  common  talk  of  smoking- 
rooms  imbibed  a  vast  amount  of  nonsense.  He  knew  that 
such  and  such  a  statesman  professed  particular  opinions  only 
to  keep  in  place  and  enjoy  the  loaves  and  fishes.  He  could 
tell  you  to  a  penny  the  bribe  given  to  the  editor  of  the  Times 
by  a  foreign  government  for  a  certain  series  of  articles.  As 
for  the  stories  he  heard  and  repeated  of  all  manner  of  noble 
families,  they  were  many  of  them  doubtless  true,  and  they 
were  nearly  all  unpleasant ;  but  then  the  tale  that  would 
have  been  regarded  with  indifference  if  told  about  an  ordi- 
nary person,  grew  lambent  with  interest  when  it  was  told 
about  a  commonplace  woman  possessed  of  a  shire  and  a 
gaby  crowned  with  a  coronet.  There  was  no  malice  in  these 
stories ;  only  the  young  men  were  supposed  to  know  every- 
thing about  the  private  affairs  of  a  certain  number  of  families 
no  more  nearly  related  to  them  than  their  washerwoman. 

He  was  unfortunate,  too,  in  a  few  personal  experiences. 
He  was  a  fairly  well-intentioned  young  man ;  and,  going 
home  one  night,  was  moved  to  pity  by  the  sobbing  and  ex- 
clamations of  a  little  girl  of  twelve,  whose  mother  was  drunk 
and  tumbling  about  the  pavement.  The  child  could  not  get 
her  mother  to  go  home,  and  it  was  now  past  midnight. 
Richard  Roscorla  thought  he  would  interfere,  and  went  over 
the  way  and  helped  the  woman  to  her  feet.  He  had  scarcely 
done  so  when  the  virago  turned  on  him,  shouted  for  help, 
accused  him  of  assaulting  her,  and  finally  hit  him  straight  be- 


30  THREE  FEATHERS. 

twcen  the  eyes,  nearly  blinding  him,  and  causing  him  to  keep 
his  chamber  for  three  weeks.  After  that  he  gave  up  the  lower 
classes. 

Then  a  gentleman  who  had  been  his  bosom  friend  at  Eton, 
and  who  had  carried  away  with  him  so  little  of  the  atmos- 
phere of  that  institution  that  he  by  and  by  abandoned  him- 
self to  trade,  renewed  his  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Roscorla, 
and  besought  him  to  join  him  in  a  little  business  transaction. 
He  only  wanted  a  few  thousand  pounds  to  secure  the  success 
of  a  venture  that  would  make  both  their  fortunee.  Young 
Roscorla  hesitated.  Then  his  friend  sent  his  wife,  an  ex- 
ceedingly pretty  woman,  and  she  pleaded  with  such  sweetness 
and  pathos  that  she  actually  carried  away  a  check  for  the 
amount  in  her  beautiful  little  purse.  A  couple  of  days 
afterwards  Mr.  Roscorla  discovered  that  his  friend  had  sud- 
denly left  the  country  ;  that  he  had  induced  a  good  many 
people  to  lend  him  money  to  start  his  new  enterprise  ;  and  that 
the  beautiful  lady  whom  he  had  sent  to  plead  his  cause  was 
a  wife  certainly,  but  not  his  wife.  She  was.  in  fact,  the  wife  of 
one  of  the  swindled  creditors,  who  bore  her  loss  with  greater 
equanimity  than  he  showed  in  speaking  of  his  departed 
money.  Young  Roscorla  laughed,  and  said  to  himself  that 
a  man  who  wished  to  have  any  knowledge  of  the  world  must 
be  prepared  to  pay  for  it. 

The  loss  of  the  money,  though  it  pressed  him  hardly  for  a 
few  years,  and  gave  a  fright  to  his  father's  executors,  did  not 
trouble  him  much  ;  for,  in  company  with  a  good  many  of  the 
young  fellows  about,  he  had  given  himself  up  to  one  of  the 
most  pleasing  delusions  which  even  club-life  has  fostered. 
It  was  the  belief  of  those  young  men  that  in  England  there 
are  a  vast  number  of  young  ladies  of  fortune  who  are  so  ex- 
ceedingly anxious  to  get  married  that  any  decent  young 
fellow  of  fair  appearance  and  good  manners  has  only  to  bide 
his  time  in  order  to  be  provided  for  for  life.  Accordingly  Mr. 
Roscorla  and  others  of  his  particular  set  were  in  no  hurry  to 
take  a  wife.  They  waited  to  see  who  would  bid  most  for 
them.  They  were  not  in  want;  they  could  have  maintained 
a  wife  in  a  certain  fashion  ;  but  that  was  not  the  fashion  in 
which  they  hoped  to  spend  the  rest  of  their  days,  when  they 
consented  to  relinquish  the  joys  and  freedom  of  bachelor- 
hood. Most  of  them,  indeed,  had  so  thoroughly  settled  in 
their  own  mind  the  sort  of  existence  to  which  they  were  en- 
titled— the  house  and  horses  and  shooting  necessary  to  them 
— that  it  was  impossible  for  them  to  consider  any  lesser  offer; 
and  so  they  waited  from  year  to  year,  guarding  themselves 


THE  LAST  LOOK  BACK.  31 

against  temptation,  cultivating  an  excellent  taste  in  various 
sorts  of  luxuries,  and  reserving  themselves  for  the  grand  coup 
which  was  to  make  their  fortune.  In  many  cases  they  looked 
upon  themselves  as  the  victims  of  the  world.  They  had  been 
deceived  by  this  or  the  other  woman  ;  but  now  they  had 
done  with  the  fatal  passion  of  love,  its  dangerous  perplexities 
and  insincere  romance;  and  were  resolved  to  take  a  sound, 
common-sense  view  of  life.  So  they  waited  carelessly,  and 
enjoyed  their  time,  growing  in  wisdom  of  a  certain  sort. 
They  were  gentlemanly  young  fellows  enough;  they  would 
not  have  clone  a  dishonorable  action  for  the  world  ;  they 
were  well-bred,  and  would  have  said  no  discourteous  thing  to 
the  woman  they  married,  even  though  they  hated  her ;  they 
had  their  cold  bath  every  morning ;  they  lived  soberly,  if  not 
very  righteously;  and  would  not  have  asked  ten  points  at 
billiards  if  they  fairly  thought  they  could  have  played  even. 
The  only  thing  was  that  they  had  changed  their  sex.  They 
were  not  Perseus,  but  Andromeda ;  and  while  this  poor  mas- 
culine Andromeda  remained  chained  to  the  rock  of  an 
imaginary  poverty,  the  feminine  Perseus  who  was  to  come  in 
a  blaze  of  jewels  and  gold  to  the  rescue  still  remained  afar 
off,  until  Andromeda  got  a  little  tired. 

And  so  it  was  with  Mr.  Richard  Roscorla.  He  lounged 
about  his  club,  and  had  nice  little  dinners ;  he  went  to  other 
people's  houses,  and  dined  there  ;  with  his  crush-hat  under  his 
arm  he  went  to  many  a  dance,  and  made  such  acquaintances 
as  he  might ;  but  somehow  that  one  supreme  chance  invariably 
missed.  He  did  not  notice  it,  any  more  than  his  fellows. 
If  you  had  asked  any  of  them,  they  would  still  have  given 
you  those  devil-may-care  opinions  about  women,  and  those 
shrewd  estimates  of  what  was  worth  living  for  in  the  world. 
They  did  not  seem  to  be  aware  that  year  after  year  was  going 
by,  and  that  a  new  race  of  younger  men  were  coming  to  the 
front,  eager  for  all  sorts  of  pastimes,  ready  to  dance  till  day- 
break, and  defying  with  their  splendid  constitutions  the 
worst  champagne  a  confectioner  ever  brewed.  A  man  who 
takes  good  care  of  himself  is  slow  to  believe  that  he  is  growing 
middle-aged.  If  the  sitting-up  all  night  to  play  loo  does  him 
an  injury  such  as  he  would  not  have  experienced  a  few  years 
before,  he  lays  the  blame  of  it  on  the  brandy-and-soda.  When 
two  or  three  hours  over  wet  turnips  make  his  knees  feel  queer, 
he  vows  that  he  is  in  bad  condition,  but  that  a  few  days'  ex- 
ercise will  set  him  right.  It  was  a  long  time  before  Mr.  Rich- 
ard Roscorla  would  admit  to  himself  that  his  hair  was  grow- 
ing gray.     By  this  time  many  of  his  old  friends  and  associates 


32  THREE  FEATHERS. 

had  left  the  club.  Some  had  died  ;  some  had  made  the  best 
of  a  bad  bargain,  and  married  a  plain  country  cousin  ;  none, 
to  tell  the  truth,  had  been  rescued  by  the  beautiful  heiress 
for  whom  they  had  all  been  previously  waiting.  And  while 
these  men  went  away,  and  while  new  men  came  into  the  club 
— young  fellows  with  fresh  complexions,  abundant  spirits,  a 
lavish  disregard  of  money,  and  an  amazing  enjoyment  in 
drinking  any  sort  of  wine — another  set  of  circumstances  came 
into  play  which  rendered  it  more  and  more  necessary  for  Mr. 
Roscorla  to  change  his  ways  of  life. 

He  was  now  over  forty  ;  his  hair  was  gray  ;  his  companions 
were  mostly  older  men  than  himself ;  and  he  began  to  be 
rather  pressed  for  money.  The  merchants  in  London  who 
sold  for  his  agents  in  Jamaica  those  consignments  of  sugar 
and  rum  sent  him  every  few  months  statements  which  showed 
that  either  the  estates  were  yielding  less,  or  the  markets  had 
fallen,  or  labor  had  risen — whatever  it  might  be,  his  annual 
income  was  very  seriously  impaired.  He  could  no  longer 
afford  to  play  half-crown  points  at  whist — even  sixpenny  pool 
was  dangerous  ;  and  those  boxes  and  stalls  which  it  was  once 
his  privilege  to  take  for  dowagers  gifted  with  daughters  were 
altogether  out  of  the  question.  The  rent  of  his  rooms  in 
Jermyn  Street  was  a  serious  matter;  all  his  little  economies 
at  the  club  were  of  little  avail  ;  at  last  he  resolved  to  leave 
London.  And  then  it  was  that  he  bethought  him  of  living 
permanently  at  this  cottage  at  Eglosilyan,  which  had  belonged 
to  his  grandfather,  and  which  he  had  visited  from  time  to 
time  during  the  summer  months.  He  would  continue  his  club 
subscriptions;  he  would  still  correspond  with  certain  of  his 
friends  ;  he  would  occasionally  pay  a  flying  visit  to  London  ; 
and  down  here  by  the  Cornish  coast  he  would  live  a  healthy, 
economical,  contented  life. 

So  he  came  to  Eglosilyan,  and  took  up  his  abode  in  the 
plain  white  cottage  placed  amid  birch-trees  on  the  side  of  the 
hill,  and  set  about  providing  himself  with  amusement.  He 
had  a  good  many  books,  and  he  read  at  night  over  his  final 
pipe  ;  he  made  friends  with  the  fishermen,  and  often  went 
out  with  them  ;  he  took  a  little  interest  in  wild  plants  ;  and  he 
rode  a  sturdy  little  pony  by  way  of  exercise.  He  was  known 
to  the  Trelyons,  to  the  clergymen  of  the  neighborhood,  and 
to  one  or  two  families  living  farther  off ;  but  he  did  not  dine 
out  much,  for  he  could  not  well  invite  his  host  to  dinner  in 
return.  His  chief  friends,  indeed,  were  the  Rosewarnes ; 
and  scarcely  a  day  passed  that  he  did  not  call  at  the  inn  and 
have  a  chat  with  George   Rosewarne,  or  with   his   wife   and 


THE  LAST  LOOK  BA CK.  33 

daughters.  For  the  rest,  Mr.  Roscorla  was  a  small  man, 
sparely  built,  with  somewhat  fresh  complexion,  close-cropped 
gray  hair,  and  iron-gray  whiskers.  He  dressed  very  neatly 
and  methodically  ;  he  was  fairly  light  and  active  in  his  walk  ; 
and  he  had  a  grave,  good-natured  smile.  He  was  much  im- 
proved in  constitution,  indeed,  since  he  came  to  Eglosilyan ; 
for  that  was  not  a  place  to  let  any  one  die  of  languor,  or  to 
encourage  complexions  of  the  color  of  apple- pudding.  Mr. 
Roscorla,  indeed,  had  the  appearance  of  a  pleasant  little 
country  lawyer,  somewhat  finical  in  dress  and  grave  in  man- 
ner, and  occasionally  just  a  trifle  supercilious  and  cutting  in 
his  speech. 

He  had  received  Wenna  Rosewarne's  brief  and  hurriedly 
written  note  ;  and  if  accident  had  not  thrown  her  in  his  way, 
he  would  doubtless  have  granted  her  that  time  for  reflection 
which  she  demanded.  But  happening  to  be  out,  he  saw  her 
go  down  towards  the  rocks  beyond  the  harbor.  She  had  a 
pretty  figure,  and  she  walked  gracefully ;  when  he  saw  her 
at  a  distance  some  little  flutter  of  anxiety  disturbed  his  heart. 
That  glimpse  of  her — the  possibility  of  securing  as  his  con- 
stant companion  a  girl  who  walked  so  daintily  and  dressed 
so  neatly — added  some  little  warmth  of  feeling  to  the  wish 
he  had  carefully  reasoned  out  and  expressed.  For  the  offer 
he  had  sent  to  Miss  Wenna  was  the  result  of  much  calcula- 
tion. He  was  half  aware  that  he  had  let  his  youth  slip  by 
and  idled  away  his  opportunities  ;  there  was  now  no  chance 
of  his  engaging  in  any  profession  or  pursuit ;  there  was  little 
chance  of  his  bettering  his  condition  by  a  rich  marriage. 
What  could  he  now  offer  to  a  beautiful  young  creature  pos- 
sessed of  fortune,  such  as  he  had  often  looked  out  for,  in  re- 
turn for  herself  and  her  money  ?  Not  his  gray  hairs,  and  his 
asthmatic  evenings  in  winter,  and  the  fixed  and  narrow  and 
oftentimes  selfish  habits  and  opinions  begotten  of  a  solitary 
life.  Here,  on  the  other  hand,  was  a  young  lady  of  pleasing 
manners  and  honest  nature,  and  of  humble  wishes,  as  be- 
came her  station,  whom  he  might  induce  to  marry  him.  She 
had  scarcely  ever  moved  out  of  the  small  circle  around  her ; 
and  in  it  were  no  possible  lovers  for  her.  If  he  did  not 
marry  her,  she  might  drift  into  as  hopeless  a  position  as  his 
own.  If  she  consented  to  marry  him,  would  they  not  be 
able  to  live  in  a  friendly  way  together,  gradually  winning 
each  other's  sympathy,  and  making  the  world  a  little  more 
sociable  and  comfortable  for  both  ?  There  was  no  chance 
of  his  going  back  to  the  brilliant  society  in  which  he  had 
once  moved  ;  for  there  was  no  one  whom  he  could  expect  to 


34  THREE  FEATHERS. 

die  and  leave  him  any  money.  When  he  went  up  to  town 
and  spent  an  evening  or  two  at  his  club,  he  found  himself 
almost  wholly  among  strangers  ;  and  he  could  not  get  that 
satisfaction  out  of  a  solitary  dinner  that  once,  was  his.  He 
returned  to  his  cottage  at  Eglosilyan  with  some  degree  of 
resignation  ;  and  fancied  he  could  live  well  enough  there  if 
Wenna  Rosewarne  would  only  come  to  relieve  him  from  its 
frightful  loneliness. 

He  blushed  when  he  went  forward  to  her  on  these  rocks, 
and  was  exceedingly  embarrassed,  and  could  scarcely  look 
her  in  the  face  as  he  begged  her  pardon  for  intruding  on  her, 
and  hoped  she  would  resume  her  seat.  She  was  a  little  pale, 
and  would  have  liked  to  get  away,  but  was  probably  so 
frightened  that  she  did  not  know  how  to  take  the  step. 
Without  a  word,  she  sat  clown  again,  her  heart  beating  as  if 
it  would  suffocate  her.     Then  there  was  a  terrible  pause. 

Mr.  Roscorla  discovered  at  this  moment — and  the  shock 
almost  bewildered  him — that  he  would  have  to  play  the  part 
of  a  lover.  He  had  left  that  out  of  the  question.  He  had 
found  it  easy  to  dissociate  love  from  marriage  in  writing  a 
letter;  in  fact  he  had  written  to  get  over  the  necessity  of 
shamming  sentiment ;  but  here  was  a  young  and  sensitive 
girl,  probably  with  a  good  deal  of  romantic  nonsense  in  her 
head,  and  he  was  going  to  ask  her  to  marry  him.  And  just 
at  this  moment,  also,  a  terrible  recollection  flashed  in  on  his 
mind  of  Wenna  Rosewarne's  liking  for  humor,  and  of  the 
merry  light  he  had  often  seen  in  her  eyes,  however  demure 
her  manner  might  be  ;  and  then  it  occurred  to  him  that  if  he 
did  play  the  lover,  she  would  know  that  he  knew  he  was 
making  a  fool  of  himself,  and  laugh  at  him  in  the  safe  con- 
cealment of  her  own  room. 

"  Of  course,"  he  said,  making  a  sudden  plunge,  followed 
by  a  gasp  or  two — "  of  course — Miss  Wenna — of  course  you 
were  surprised  to  get  my  letter — a  letter  containing  an  offer 
of  marriage,  and  almost  nothing  about  affection  in  it.  Well, 
there  are  some  things  one  can  neither  write  nor  say — they 
have  so  often  been  the  subject  of  good-natured  ridicule  that 
—that—" 

"  I  think  one  forgets  that,"  Wenna  said  timidly,  "  if  one  is 
in  earnest  about  anything." 

"  Miss  Wenna,"  he  said,  "  you  know  I  find  it  very  difficult 
to  say  what  I  should  like  to  say.  The  letter  did  not  tell  you 
half — probably  you  thought  it  too  dry  and  business-like. 
But  at  all  events  you  were  not  offended  ?  " 

"  Oh  no,"  she  said,  wondering  how  she  could  get  away, 


THE  LAST  LOOK  B A  CK.  3 5 

and  whether  a  precipitate  plunge  into  the  sea  below  her 
would  not  be  the  simplest  plan.  Her  head,  she  felt,  was 
growing  giddy,  and  she  began  to  hear  snatches  of  "  Wap- 
ping  Old  Stairs  "  in  the  roar  of  the  waves  around  her. 

But  he  continued  to  talk  to  her,  insisting  on  much  he  had 
said  in  his  letter,  and  that  with  a  perfect  faith  in  its  truth. 
So  far  as  his  own  experience  went,  the  hot-headed  romanti- 
cism of  youth  had  only  led  to  mischief.  Then  the  mere  fact 
that  she  allowed  him  to  talk  was  everything ;  a  point  was 
gained  in  that  she  had  not  straightway  sent  him  off. 

Incidentally  he  spoke  of  her  charitable  labors  among  the 
poorer  folks  of  Eglosilyan  ;  and  here  he  speedily  saw  he  had 
got  an  opening,  and  he  made  use  of  it  dexterously.  For 
Miss  Wenna's  weak  side  was  a  great  distrust  of  herself,  and 
a  longing  to  be  assured  that  she  was  cared  for  by  anybody, 
and  of  some  little  account  in  the  world.  To  tell  her  that  the 
people  of  Eglosilyan  were  without  exception  fond  of  her,  and 
ready  at  all  moments  to  say  kind  things  of  her,  was  the 
sweetest  flattery  to  her  ears.  Mr.  Roscorla  easily  perceived 
this,  and  made  excellent  use  of  his  discovery.  If  she  did  not 
quite  believe  all  that  she  heard,  she  was  secretly  delighted  to 
hear  it.  It  hinted  at  the  possible  realization  of  all  her 
dreams,  even  though  she  could  never  be  beautiful,  rich,  and 
of  noble  presence.  Wenna's  heart  rather  inclined  to  her 
companion  just  then.  He  seemed  to  her  to  be  a  connect- 
ing link  between  her  and  her  manifold  friends  in  Eglosilyan ; 
for  how  had  he  heard  those  things,  which  she  had  not  heard, 
if  he  were  not  in  general  communication  with  them  ?  He 
seemed  to  her,  too,  a  friendly  counsellor  on  whom  she  could 
rely ;  he  was  the  very  first,  indeed,  who  had  ever  offered  to 
help  her  in  her  work. 

"  It  is  far  more  a  matter  of  intention  than  of  temper,"  he 
continued,  speaking  in  a  roundabout  way  of  marriage. 
"  When  once  two  people  find  out  the  good  qualities  in  each 
other,  they  should  fix  their  faith  on  those,  and  let  the  others  be 
overlooked  as  much  as  possible.  But  I  don't  think  there  is 
much  to  be  feared  from  your  temper,  Miss  Wenna ;  and  as 
for  mine — I  suppose  I  get  vexed  sometimes,  like  other  peo- 
ple, but  I  don't  think  I  am  bad-tempered,  and  I  am  sure  I 
should  never  be  bad-tempered  to  you.  I  don't  think  I  should 
readily  forget  what  I  owe  you  for  taking  pity  on  a  solitary 
old  fellow  like  myself,  if  I  can  only  persuade  you  to  do  that, 
and  for  being  content  to  live  a  humdrum  life  up  in  that 
small  cottage.  By  the  way,  do  you  like  riding,  Wenna  ? 
Has  your  father  got  a  lady's  saddle  ?  " 


36  THREE  FEA  INTERS. 

The  question  startled  her  so  that  the  blood  rushed  to  her 
face  in  a  moment,  and  she  could  not  answer.  Was  it  not 
that  very  morning  that  she  had  been  asked  almost  the  same 
question  by  Mr.  Trelyon  ?  And  while  she  was  dreamily 
looking  at  an  imaginative  picture  of  her  future  life,  calm  and 
placid  and  commonplace,  the  sudden  introduction  into  it  of 
Harry  Trelyon  almost  frightened  her.  The  mere  recalling 
of  his  name,  indeed,  shattered  that  magic-lantern  slide,  and 
took  her  back  to  their  parting  of  the  forenoon,  when  he  left 
her  in  something  of  an  angry  fashion  ;  or,  rather,  it  took  her 
still  further  back — to  one  bright  summer  morning  on  which 
she  had  met  young  Trelyon  riding  over  the  clowns  to  St. 
Gennis.  We  all  of  us  know  how  apt  the  mind  is  to  retain 
one  particular  impression  of  a  friend's  appearance,  sometimes 
even  in  the  matter  of  dress  and  occupation.  When  we 
recall  such  and  such  a  person,  we  think  of  a  particular  smile, 
a  particular  look  ;  perhaps  one  particular  incident  of  his  or 
her  life.  Whenever  Wenna  Rosewarne  thought  of  Mr.  Trel- 
yon, she  thought  of  him  as  she  saw  him  on  that  one 
morning.  She  was  coming  along  the  rough  path  that  crosses 
the  bare  uplands  by  the  sea ;  he  was  riding  by  another  path 
some  little  distance  off,  and  did  not  notice  her.  The  boy 
was  riding  hard  ;  the  sunlight  was  on  his  face  ;  he  was  sing- 
ing aloud  some  song  about  the  Cavaliers  and  King  Charles. 
Two  or  three  years  had  come  and  gone  since  then.  She 
had  seen  Master  Harry  in  many  a  mood,  and  not  unfrequently 
ill-tempered  ;  but  whenever  she  thought  of  him  suddenly,  her 
memory  presented  her  with  that  picture  ;  and  it  was  the 
picture  of  a  handsome  English  lad  riding  by  on  a  summer 
morning,  singing  a  brave  song,  and  with  all  the  light  of  youth 
and  hope  and  courage  shining  on  his  face. 

She  rose  quickly,  and  with  a  sigh,  as  if  she  had  been 
dreaming  for  a  time,  and  forgetting  for  a  moment  the  sadness 
of  the  world. 

"  Oh,  you  asked  about  a  saddle,"  she  said,  in  a  matter-of- 
fact  way.  "  Yes,  I  think  my  father  has  one.  I  think  I  must 
be  going  home  now,  Mr.  Roscorla." 

"  No,  not  yet,"  he  said,  in  a  pleading  way.  "  Give  me  a  few 
more  minutes.  I  mayn't  have  another  chance  before  you 
make  up  your  mind,  and  then,  when  that  is  done,  I  suppose 
it  is  all  over,  so  far  as  persuasion  goes.  What  I  am  most 
anxious  about  is  that  you  should  believe  there  is  more  affec- 
tion in  my  offer  than  I  have  actually  conveyed  in  words. 
Don't  imagine  it  is  merely  a  commonplace  bargain  I  want 
you  to  enter  into.     I  hope,  indeed,  that  in  time  I  shall  win 


THE  LAST  LOOK  BACK.  37 

from  you  something  wanner  than  affection,  if  only  you  give 
me  the  chance.  Now,  Wenna,  won't  you  give  me  some 
word  of  assurance — some  hint  that  it  may  come  all  right  ?  " 

She  stood  before  him,  with  her  eyes  cast  down,  and  re- 
mained silent  for  what  seemed  to  him  a  strangely  long  time. 
Was  she  bidding  good-bye  to  all  the  romantic  dreams  of  her 
youth — to  that  craving  in  a  girl's  heart  for  some  firm  and  sure 
ideal  of  manly  love  and  courage  and  devotion  to  which  she 
can  cling  through  good  report  and  bad  report  ?  Was  she  rec- 
onciling herself  to  the  plain  and  common  ways  of  the  mar- 
ried life  placed  before  her  ?  She  said  at  length,  in  a  low 
voice — 

"  You  won't  ask  me  to  leave  Eglosilyan  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,"  he  said,  eagerly.  "  And  you  will  see  how 
I  will  try  to  join  you  in  all  your  work  there,  and  how  much 
easier  and  pleasanter  it  will  be  for  you,  and  how  much  more 
satisfactory  for  all  the  people  around  you." 

She  put  out  her  hand  timidly,  her  eyes  still  cast  down. 

"  You  will  be  my  wife,  Wenna  ?  " 

"Yes,"  she  said. 

Mr.  Roscorla  was  conscious  that  he  ought  at  this  high  mo- 
ment in  a  man's  life  to  experience  a  strange  thrill  of  happi- 
ness. He  almost  waited  for  it ;  but  he  felt  instead  a  very 
distinct  sense  of  embarrassment  in  not  knowing  what  to  do 
or  say  next.  He  supposed  that  he  ought  to  kiss  her,  but  he 
dared  not.  As  he  himself  had  said,  Wenna  Rosewarne  was 
so  fine  and  shy  that  he  shrank  from  wounding  her  extreme 
sensitiveness  ;  and  to  step  forward  and  kiss  this  quiet  and 
gentle  creature,  who  stood  there  with  her  pale  face  faintly 
flushed  and  her  eyes  averted — why,  it  was  impossible.  He 
had  heard  of  girls,  in  wild  moments  of  pleasure  and  persua- 
sion, suddenly  raising  their  tear-filled  eyes  to  their  lover's 
face,  and  signing  away  their  whole  existence  with  one  full, 
passionate,  and  yearning  kiss.  But  to  steal  a  kiss  from  this 
calm  little  girl  ? '  He  felt  he  should  be  acting  the  part  of  a 
jocular  ploughboy. 

"Wenna,"  he  said  at  length,  "you  have  made  me  very 
happy.  I  am  sure  you  will  never  repent  your  decision  ;  at 
least  I  shall  do  my  best  to  make  you  think  you  have  done 
right.  And,  Wenna,  I  have  to  dine  with  the  Trelyons  on  Fri- 
day evening  ;  would  you  allow  me  to  tell  them  something  of 
what  has  happened  ?  " 

"  The  Trelyons  ! "  she  repeated,  looking  up  in  a  startled 
way. 

It  was  of  evil  omen  for  this  man  man's  happiness  that  the 


38  THREE  FEATHERS. 

mere  mention  of  that  word  turned  this  girl,  who  had  just  been 
yielding  up  her  life  to  him,  into  a  woman  as  obdurate  and 
unimpressionable  as  a  piece  of  marble. 

"  Mr.  Roscorla,"  she  said,  with  a  certain  hard  decision  of 
voice,  "  I  must  ask  you  to  give  me  back  that  promise  I  made. 
I  forgot — it  was  too  hurried  ;  why  would  you  not  wait  ?  " 

He  was  fairly  stupefied. 

"  Mr.  Roscorla,"  she  said,  with  almost  something  of  petu- 
lant impatience  in  her  voice,  "  you  must  let  me  go  now ;  I 
am  quite  tired  out.  I  will  write  to  you  to-morrow  or  next 
day,  as  I  promised." 

She  passed  him  and  went  on,  leaving  him  unable  to  utter 
a  word  of  protest.  But  she  had  only  gone  a  few  steps  when 
she  returned,  and  held  out  her  hand  and  said — 

"  I  hope  I  have  not  offended  you  ?  It  seems  that  I  must 
offend  everybody  now;  but  I  am  a  little  tired,  Mr.  Ros- 
corla."  . 

There  was  just  the  least  quiver  about  her  lips  ;  and  as  all 
this  was  a  profound  mystery  to  him,  he  fancied  he  must  have 
tired  her  out,  and  he  inwardly  called  himself  a  brute. 

"  My  dear  Wenna,"  he  said,  "you  have  not  offended  me — 
you  have  not  really.  It  is  I  who  must  apologize  to  you.  I 
am  so  sorry  I  should  have  worried  you ;  it  is  very  inconsider- 
ate.    Pray  take  your  own  time  about  that  letter." 

So  she  went  away,  and  passed  to  the  other  side  of  the  rocks, 
and  came  in  view  of  the  small  winding  harbor,  and  the  mill, 
and  the  inn.  Far  away  up  there,  over  the  cliffs,  were  the 
downs  on  which  she  had  met  Harry  Trelyon  that  summer 
morning  as  he  rode  by,  singing  in  the  mere  joyousness  of 
youth,  and  happy  and  pleased  with  all  the  world.  She  could 
hear  the  song  he  was  singing  then  ;  she  could  see  the  sun- 
light that  was  shining  on  his  face.  It  appeared  to  her  to  be 
long  ago.  This  girl  was  but  eighteen  years  of  age,  and  yet, 
as  she  walked  down  towards  Eglosilyan  there  was  a  weight 
on  her  heart  that  seemed  to  tell  her  she  was  growing  old. 

And  now  the  western  sky  was  red  with  the  sunset,  and  the 
rich  light  burned  along  the  crests  of  the  hills,  on  the  golden 
furze,  the  purple  heather,  and  the  deep-colored  rocks.  The 
world  seemed  all  ablaze  up  there  ;  but  down  here,  as  she 
went  by  the  harbor  and  crossed  over  the  bridge  by  the  mill, 
Eglosilyan  lay  pale  and  gray  in  the  hollow ;  and  even  the 
the  great  black  wheel  was  silent. 


THROWING  A  FLY.  39 

CHAPTER  V. 

THROWING  A  FLY. 

Harry  Trelyon  had  a  cousin  named  Juliott  Penaluna, 
who  lived  at  Penzance  with  her  father,  an  irascible  old 
clergyman,  who,  while  yet  a  poor  curate,  had  the  good  fortune 
to  marry  Mrs.  Trelyon's  sister.  Miss  Juliott  was  a  handsome, 
healthy,  English-looking  girl,  with  blue  eyes  and  brown  hair, 
frank  enough  in  her  ways,  fairly  well-read,  fond  of  riding  and 
driving,  and  very  specially  fond  of  her  cousin.  There  had 
never  been  any  concealment  about  that.  Master  Harry,  too, 
liked  his  cousin  in  a  way,  as  he  showed  by  his  rudeness  to 
her ;  but  he  used  plainly  to  tell  her  that  he  would  not  marry 
her ;  whereupon  she  would  be  angry  with  him  for  his  imper- 
tinence, and  end  by  begging  him  to  be  good  friends  again. 

At  last  she  went,  as  her  mother  had  done  before  her,  and 
encouraged  the  attentions  of  a  fair,  blue-eyed,  pensive  young 
curate,  one  who  was  full  of  beautiful  enthusiasms  and  ideal- 
isms, in  which  he  sought  to  interest  the  mind  of  this  exceed- 
ingly practical  young  woman,  who  liked  cliff-hunting,  and 
had  taught  herself  to  swim  in  the  sea.  Just  before  she 
pledged  her  future  to  him  she  wrote  to  Harry  Trelyon, 
plainly  warning  him  of  what  was  going  to  happen.  In  a 
fashion  she  asked  for  his  advice.  It  was  a  timid  letter  for 
her  to  write,  and  she  even  showed  some  sentiment  in  it. 
The  reply,  written  in  a  coarse,  sprawling,  school-boy  hand, 
was  as  follows : 

"  Trelyon  .  Hall,  Monday  Afternoon. 
"  Dear  Jue, — 

"  All  right.  You're  a  fool  to  marry  a  parson.  What 
would  you  like  for  a  wedding  present  ? 

"  Affectionately  yours, 

"  Harry  Trelyon.  " 

Posts  don't  go  very  fast  in  Cornwall ;  but  just  as  soon  as 
a  letter  from  Penzance  could  reach  him,  Master  Harry  had 
his  answer.     And  it  was  this  : 

"  The  Hollies,  Penzance,  Wednesday. 
"  Dear  Harry, — 

"  I  am  glad  to  receive  a  letter  from  you  in  which  there  is 
no  ill-spelling.  There  is  plenty  of  ill-temper,  however,  as 
usual.  You  may  send  your  wedding  presents  to  those  who 
care  for  them  :  I  don't.  Juliott  Penaluna." 


40  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

Master  Hairy  burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter  when  he  re- 
ceived that  letter ;  but,  all  the  same,  he  could  not  get  his 
cousin  to  write  him  a  line  for  months  thereafter.  Now,  how- 
ever, she  had  come  to  visit  some  friends  at  Wadebridge  ; 
and  she  agreed  to  drive  over  and  join  Mrs.  Trelyon's  little 
dinner-party,  to  which  Mr.  Roscorla  had  also  been  invited. 
Accordingly,  in  the  afternoon,  when  Harry  Trelyon  was 
seated  on  the  stone  steps  outside  the  Hall  door,  engaged  in 
making  artificial  flies,  Miss  Penaluna  drove  up  in  a  tiny 
chariot  drawn  by  a  beautiful  little  pair  of  ponies  ;  and  when 
the  boy  had  jumped  down  and  gone  to  the  ponies'  heads,  and 
when  she  had  descended  from  the  carriage,  Master  Harry 
thought  it  was  time  for  him  to  lay  aside  his  silk,  rosin, 
feathers,  and  what  not,  and  go  forward  to  meet  her. 

"  How  are  you,  Jue  ? "  he  said,  offering  to  kiss  her,  as  was 
his  custom  ;  "  and  where's  your  young  man  ?" 

She  drew  back,  offended  ;  and  then  she  looked  at  him,  and 
shrugged  her  shoulders,  and  gave  him  her  cheek  to  kiss. 
He  was  onlv  a  boy,  after  all. 

"Well,  Harry,  I  am  not  going  to  quarrel  with  you,"  she 
said,  with  a  good-natured  smile  ;  "  although  I  suppose  I  shall 
have  plenty  of  cause  before  I  go.  Are  you  as  rude  as  ever  ? 
Do  you  talk  as  much  slang  as  ever  ? " 

"  I  like  to  hear  you  talk  of  slang  !  "  he  said.  "Who  calls  her 
ponies  Brandy  and  Soda?  Weren't  you  wild,  Jue,  when 
Captain  Tulliver  came  up  and  said,  '  Miss  Penaluna,  how  are 
your  dear  Almonds  and  Raisins  ?  '  " 

"  If  I  had  given  him  a  cut  with  my  whip,  I  should  have 
made  him  dance,"  said  Miss  Juliott,  frankly;  "then  he 
would  have  forgotten  to  turn  out  his  toes.  Harry,  go  and 
see  if  that  boy  has  taken  in  my  things." 

"  I  won't.  There's  plenty  of  time  ;  and  I  want  to  talk  to 
you.  I  say,  Jue,  what  made  you  go  and  get  engaged  down 
in  Penzance  ?  Why  didn't  you  cast  your  eye  in  this  direc- 
tion ?  " 

"  Well,  of  all  the  impertinent  things  that  I  ever  heard  !  " 
said  Miss  Juliott,  very  much  inclined  to  box  his  ears.  "  Do 
you  think  I  ever  thought  of  marrying  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  he  said,  coolly ;  "  and  you  would  throw  over 
that  parson  in  a  minute,  if  I  asked  you — you  know  you  would, 
Jue.     But  I'm  not  good  enough  for  you." 

"  Indeed,  you  are  not,"  she  said,  with  a  toss  of  the  head. 
"  I  would  take  you  for  a  gamekeeper,  but'not  for  a  husband." 

"  Much  need  you'll  have  of  a  gamekeeper,  when  you  be- 
come Mrs.  Tressider  !  "  said  he,  with  a  rude  laugh.     "  But  I 


THROWING  A  FLY.  41 

didn't  mean  myself,  Jue.  I  meant  that  if  you  were  going  to 
marry  a  parson,  you  might  have  come  here  and  had  a  choice. 
We  can  show  you  all  sorts  at  this  house — fat  and  lean,  steeples 
and  beer-barrels,  bandy  legged  and  knock-kneed,  whichever 
you  like — you'll  always  find  an  ample  assortment  on  these 
elegant  premises.  The  stock  is  rather  low  just  now — I  think, 
we've  only  two  or  three  ;  but  you're  supplied  already,  ain't 
you,  jue  ?  Well,  I  never  expected  it  of  you.  You  were  a 
good  sort  of  chap  at  one  time  ;  but  I  suppose  you  can't  climb 
trees  any  more  now.  There,  I'll  let  you  go  into  the  house  ; 
all  the  servants  are' waiting  for  you.  If  you  see  my  grand- 
mother, tell  her  she  must  sit  next  me  at  dinner — if  a  parson 
sits  next  me,  I'll  kill  him." 

Just  as  Miss  Juliott  passed  into  the  Hall,  a  tall,  fair-haired, 
gentle-faced  woman,  dressed  wholly  in  white,  and  stepping 
very  softly  and  silently,  came  down  the  staircase,  so  that, 
in  the  twilight,  she  almost  appeared  to  be  some  angel  descend- 
ing from  heaven.  She  came  forward  to  her  visitor  with  a 
smile  on  the  pale  and  wistful  face,  and  took  her  hand  and 
kissed  her  on  the  forehead ;  after  which,  and  a  few  words, 
of  inquiry,  Miss  Penaluna  was  handed  over  to  the  charge  of 
a  maid.  The  tall,  fair  woman  passed  noiselessly  on,  and 
went  into  a  chamber  at  the  farther  end  of  the  hall,  and  shut 
the  door ;  and  presently  the  low,  soft  tones  of  a  harmonium 
were  heard,  appearing  to  come  from  some  considerable  dis- 
tance, and  yet  filling  the  house  with  a  melancholy  and  slum- 
berous music. 

Surely  it  could  not  be  this  gentle  music  which  brought  to 
Master  Harry's  face  a  most  un-Christian  scowl  ?  What  harm 
could  there  be  in  a  solitary  widow  wrapping  herself  up  in  her 
imaginative  sorrow,  and  saturating  the  whole  of  her  feeble, 
impressionable,  and  withal  kindly  nature  with  a  half-religious, 
half-poetic  sentiment  ?  What  although  those  days  which  she 
devoted  to  services  in  memory  of  her  relatives  who  were  dead 
— and,  most  of  all,  in  memory  of  her  husband  whom  she  had 
really  loved — resembled,  in  some  respects,  the  periods  in 
which  an  opium-eater  resolves  to  give  himself  up  to  the  strange 
and  beautiful  sensations  beyond  which  he  can  imagine  no 
form  of  happiness  ?  Mrs.  Trelyon  was  nothing  of  a  zealot 
or  devotee.  She  held  no  particular  doctrines ;  she  did  not 
even  countenance  High-Church  usages,  except  in  :o  far  as 
music  and  painting  and  dim  religious  lights  aided  her  en- 
deavors to  produce  a  species  of  exalted  intoxicati  ^1..  She 
did  not  believe  herself  to  be  a  wicked  sinner,  and  s-ie  could 
not  understand  the  earnest  convictions  and  pronou  iced  the- 


42  THREE  FEATHERS. 

ology  of  the  Dissenters  around  her.  But  she  drank  of  religious 
sentiment  as  other  persons  drink  in  beautiful  music  ;  and  all 
the  aids  she  could  bring  to  bear  in  producing  this  feeling 
of  blind  ecstasy  she  had  collected  together  in  the  private 
chapel  attached  to  Trelyon  Hall.  At  this  very  moment  she 
was  seated  there  alone.  The  last  rays  of  the  sun  shone 
through  narrow  windows  of  painted  glass,  and  carried  beautiful 
colors  with  them  into  the  dusk  of  the  curiously  furnished  little 
building.  She  herself  sat  before  a  large  harmonium,  and 
there  was  a  stain  of  rose-color  and  of  violet  on  the  white 
silk  costume  that  she  wore.  It  was  one  of  her  notions  that, 
though  black  might  well  represent  the  grief  immediately 
following  the  funeral  of  one's  friends,  pure  white  was  the 
more  appropriate  mourning  when  one  had  become  accustomed 
to  their  loss,  and  had  turned  one's  eyes  to  the  shining  realms 
which  they  inhabit.  Mrs.  Trelyon  never  went  out  of  mourn- 
ing for  her  husband,  who  had  been  dead  over  a  dozen  years  ; 
but  the  mourning  was  of  pure  white  ;  so  that  she  wandered 
through  the  large  and  empty  rooms  of  Trelyon  Hall,  or 
about  the  grounds  outside,  like  a  ghost ;  and,  like  a  ghost, 
she  was  ordinarily  silent  and  shy  and  light-footed.  She  was 
not  much  of  a  companion  for  the  rude,  impetuous,  self-willed 
boy  whose  education  she  had  handed  over  to  grooms  and 
gamekeepers,  and  to  his  own  very  pronounced  instincts. 

The  frown  that  came  over  the  lad's  handsome  face  as  he 
sat  on  the  door-step,  resuming  his  task  of  making  trout-flies, 
was  caused  by  the  appearance  of  a  clergyman,  who  came 
walking  forward  from  one  of  the  hidden  paths  in  the  garden. 
There  was  nothing  really  distressing  or  repulsive  about  the 
look  of  this  gentleman  ;  although,  on  the  other  hand,  there 
was  nothing  very  attractive.  He  was  of  middle  age  and 
middle  height ;  he  wore  a  rough  brown  beard  and  mous- 
tache ;  his  face  was  gray  and  full  of  lines ;  his  forehead 
was  rather  narrow ;  and  his  eyes  were  shrewd  and  watch- 
ful. But  for  that  occasional  glance  of  the  eyes  you  would 
have  taken  him  for  a  very  ordinary,  respectable,  com- 
mon-place person,  not  deserving  of  notice,  except  for  the 
length  of  his  coat.  When  Master  Harry  saw  him  approach, 
however,  a  diabolical  notion  leaped  into  the  young  gentle- 
man's head.  He  had  been  practising  the  throwing  of  flies 
against  the  wind  ;  and  on  the  lawn  were  the  several  pieces 
of  paper,  at  different  distances,  at  which  he  had  aimed,  while 
the  slender  trout-rod,  with  a  bit  of  line  and  a  fly  at  the  end 
of  it  still  dangling,  was  close  by  his  hand.  Instantaneously 
he  put  the  rod  against  the  wall,  so  that  the  hook  was  floating 


THE  AMONG  THE  TAILORS.  43 

in  front  of  the  door  just  about  the  height  of  a  man's  head. 
Would  the  Rev.  Mr.  Barnes  look  at  the  door-steps,  rather 
than  in  front  of  him,  in  passing  into  the  house,  and  so  find  an 
artificial  fly  fastened  in  his  nose  ?  Mr.  Barnes  was  no  such 
fool. 

"  It  is  a  pleasant  afternoon,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  he  said,  in  grave 
and  measured  accents,  as  he  came  up. 

Harry  Trelyon  nodded,  as  he  smoothed  out  a  bit  of  red 
silk  thread.  Then  Mr.  Barnes  went  forward,  carefully  put 
aside  the  dangling  fly,  and  went  into  the  house. 

"  The  fish  won't  rise  to-night,"  said  Master  Harry  to  him- 
self, with  a  grin  on  his  face.  "  But  parsons  don't  take  the 
fly  readily ;  you've  got  to  catch  them  with  bait ;  and  the  bait 
they  like  best  is  a  widow's  mite.  And  now,  I  suppose,  I 
must  go  and  dress  for  dinner ;  and  don't  I  wish  I  was  going 
down  to  Mrs.  Rosewarne's  parlor  instead  !  " 

But  another  had  secured  a  better  right  to  go  into  Mrs. 
Rosewarne's  parlor. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  AMONG  THE  TAILORS. 

This  other  gentleman  was  also  dressing  for  Mrs.  Trelyon's 
dinner-party,  and  he  was  in  a  pleased  frame  of  mind.  Never 
before,  indeed,  had  Mr.  Roscorla  been  so  distinctly  and  con- 
sciously happy.  That  forenoon,  when  his  anxiety  had  become 
almost  distressing — partly  because  he  honestly  liked  Wenna 
Rosewarne  and  wanted  to  marry  her,  and  partly  because  he 
feared  the  mortification  of  a  refusal — her  letter  had  come ; 
and,  as  he  read  the  trembling,  ingenuous,  and  not-very-well- 
composed  lines  and  sentences,  a  great  feeling  of  satisfaction 
stole  over  him,  and  he  thanked  her  a  thousand  times,  in  his 
heart,  for  having  given  him  this  relief.  And  he  was  the  more 
pleased  that  it  was  so  easy  to  deal  with  a  written  consent. 
He  was  under  no  embarrassment  as  to  how  he  should  express 
his  gratitude,  or  as  to  whether  he  ought  to  kiss  her.  He 
could  manage  correspondence  better  than  a  personal  inter- 
view. He  sat  down  and  wrote  her  a  very  kind  and  even 
affectionate  letter,  telling  her  that  he  would  not  intrude  him- 
self too  soon  upon  her,  especially  as  he  had  to  go  up  to 
Trelyon  Hail  that  evening  ;  and  saying,  too,  that,  in  any  case, 
he  could  never  expect  to  tell  her  how  thankful  he  was  to  her. 


44  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

That  she  would  discover  from  his  conduct  to  her  during  their 
married  life. 

But,  to  his  great  surprise,  Mr.  Roscorla  found  that  the 
writing  and  sending  off  of  that  letter  did  not  allay  the  extra- 
ordinary nervous  excitement  that  had  laid  hold  of  him.  He 
could  not  rest.  He  called  in  his  housekeeper,  and  rather 
astonished  that  elderly  person  by  saying  he  was  much  pleased 
with  her  services,  and  thereupon  he  presented  her  with  a 
sovereign  to  buy  a  gown.  Then  he  went  into  the  garden, 
and  meant  to  occupy  himself  with  his  flowers  ;  but  he  found 
himself  staring  at  them  without  seeing  them.  Then  he  went 
back  to  his  parlor  and  took  a  glass  of  sherry  to  steady  his 
nerves — but  in  vain.  Then  he  thought  he  would  go  down  to 
the  inn,  and  ask  to  see  Wenna ;  but  again  he  changed  his 
mind,  for  how  was  he  to  meet  the  rest  of  the  family  without 
being  prepared  for  the  interview  ?  Probably  he  never  knew 
how  he  passed  these  two  or  three  hours ;  but  at  length  the 
time  came  for  him  to  dress  for  dinner. 

And,  as  he  did  so,  the  problem  that  occupied  his  mind  was 
to  discover  the  probable  reasons  that  had  induced  Wenna 
Rosewarne  to  promise  to  be  his  wife.  Had  her  parents  ad- 
vised her  to  marry  a  man  who  could  at  least  render  her  future 
safe  ?  Or  had  she  taken  pity  on  his  loneliness,  and  been 
moved  by  some  hope  of  reforming  his  ways  and  habits  of 
thinking  ?  Or  had  she  been  won  over  by  his  pictures  of  her 
increased  influence  among  the  people  around  her  ?  He  could 
not  tell.  Perhaps,  he  said  to  himself,  she  said  yes  because 
she  had  not  the  courage  to  say  no.  Perhaps  she  had  been 
convinced  by  his  arguments  that  the  wild  passion  of  love,  for 
which  youth  is  supposed  to  long,  is  a  dangerous  thing ;  and 
was  there  not  constantly  before  her  eyes  an  example  of  the 
jealousy  and  quarrelling  and  misery  that  may  follow  that  fatal 
delirium  ?  Or  it  might  be — and  here  Mr.  Roscorla  more 
nearly  approached  the  truth — that  this  shy,  sensitive,  self-dis- 
trustful girl  had  been  so  surprised  to  find  herself  of  any  im- 
portance to  any  one,  and  so  grateful  to  him  for  his  praise  of 
her,  and  for  this  highest  mark  of  appreciation  that  a  man  can 
bestow,  that  her  sudden  gratitude  softened  her  heart,  and 
disposed  her  to  yield  to  his  prayer.  And  who  could  tell  but 
that  this  present  feeling  might  lead  to  a  still  warmer  feeling 
under  the  generous  influence  of  a  constant  kindness  and  ap- 
preciation ?  It  was  with  something  of  wonder  and  almost  of 
dismay — and  with  a  wholly  new  sense  of  his  unworthiness — 
that  Mr.  Roscorla  found  himself  regarding  the  possibility  of  his 
winning  a  young  girl's  first  love. 


THE  AMONG  THE  TAILORS.  45 

Never  before  in  his  life — not  even  in  his  younger  days, 
when  he  had  got  a  stray  hint  that  he  would  probably  meet  a 
duchess  and  her  three  daughters  at  a  particular  party — had  he 
dressed  with  so  much  care.  He  was,  on  the  whole,  well 
pleased  with  himself.  He  had  to  admit  that  his  gray  hair 
was  changing  to  white  ;  but  many  people  considered  white 
hair,  with  a  hale  complexion,  rather  an  ornament  than  other- 
wise. For  the  rest,  he  resolved  that  he  would  never  dress 
again  to  go  to  any  party  to  which  Miss  Wenna  Rosewarne  was 
not  also  invited.  He  would  not  decorate  himself  for  mere 
strangers  and  acquaintances. 

He  put  on  a  light  top-coat  and  went  out  into  the  quiet  sum- 
mer evening.  There  was  a  scent  of  roses  in  the  air,  and  the 
great  Atlantic  was  beautiful  and  still ;  it  was  a  time  for  lovers 
to  be  walking  through  twilight  woods  or  in  honeysuckle  lanes, 
rather  than  for  a  number  of  people,  indifferent  to  each  other, 
to  sit  down  to  the  vulgar  pleasures  of  the  table.  He  wished 
that  Wenna  Rosewarne  had  been  of  that  party. 

There  were  two  or  three  children  at  his  gate — bright-cheek- 
ed, clean,  and  well-clad,  as  all  the  Eglosilyan  children  are — 
and  when  they  saw  him  come  out  they  ran  away.  He  was 
ashamed  of  this  ;  for,  if  Wenna  had  seen  it,  she  would  have 
been  grieved.  He  called  on  them  to  come  back ;  they  stood 
in  the  road,  not  sure  of  him.  At  length  a  little  woman  of  six 
came  timidly  along  to  him,  and  looked  at  him  with  her  big, 
wondering  blue  eyes.  He  patted  her  head  and  asked  her 
name,  and  then  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket.  The  others, 
rinding  that  their  ambassador  had  not  been  beheaded  on  the 
spot,  came  up  also,  and  formed  a  little  circle,  a  cautious  yard 
or  two  off. 

"  Look  here  !  "  he  said  to  the  eldest ;  "  here  is  a  shilling, 
and  you  go  and  buy  sweetmeats,  and  divide  them  equally 
among  you.  Or,  wait  a  bit — come  along  with  me,  the  whole 
of  you,  and  we'll  see  whether  Mrs.  Cornish  has  got  any  cake 
for  you." 

He  drove  the  flock  of  them  into  that  lady's  kitchen,  much 
to  her  consternation,  and  there  he  left  them.  But  he  had 
not  got  half-way  through  the  little  garden  again  before  he 
returned,  and  went  to  the  door  and  called  in  to  the  chil- 
dren— 

"  Mind,  you  can  swing  on  the  gate  whenever  you  like,  so 
long  as  you  take  care  and  don't  hurt  yourselves." 

And  so  he  hurried  away  again  ;  and  he  hoped  that  some 
day,  when  he  and  W7enna  Rosewarne  were  passing,  she  would 


46  THREE  FEATHERS. 

see  the  children  swinging  on  his  gate,  and  she  would  be 
pleased  that  they  did  not  run  away. 

"  Your  Polly  has  never  been  false,  she  declares — " 

he  tried  to  hum  the  air,  as  he  had  often  heard  Wenna  hum  it, 
as  he  walked  rapidly  down  the  hill,  and  along  a  bit  of  the 
valley,  and  then  up'  one  of  the  great  gorges  lying  behind 
Eglosilyan.  He  had  avoided  the  road  that  went  by  the  inn  ; 
he  did  not  wish  to  see  any  of  the  Rosewarnes  just  then. 
Moreover,  his  rapid  walking  was  not  to  save  time,  for  he  had 
plenty  of  that ;  but  to  give  himself  the  proud  assurance  that 
he  was  still  in  excellent  wind.  Miss  Wenna  must  not  imagine 
that  she  was  marrying  an  old  man.  Give  him  but  as  good  a 
horse  as  Harry  Trelyon's  famous  Dick,  and  he  would  ride 
that  dare-devil  young  gentleman  for  a  wager  to  Launceston 
and  back.  Why,  he  had  only  arrived  at  that  period  when  a 
sound  constitution  reaches  its  maturity.  Old,  or  even  elderly  ? 
He  switched  at  weeds  with  his  cane,  and  was  conscious  that 
he  was  in  the  prime  of  life. 

At  the  same  time,  he  did  not  like  the  notion  of  younger 
men  than  himself  lounging  about  Mrs.  Rosewarne's  parlor ; 
and  he  thought  he  might  just  as  well  give  Harry  Trelyon  a 
hint  that  W'enna  Rosewarne  was  engaged.  An  excellent  op- 
portunity was  offered  him  at  this  moment,  for  as  he  went  up 
through  the  grounds  to  the  front  of  the  Hall  he  found  Master 
Harry  industriously  throwing  a  fly  at  certain  bits  of  paper  on 
the  lawn.  He  had  resumed  this  occupation,  after  having 
gone  inside  and  dressed,  as  a  handy  method  of  passing  the 
time  until  his  cousin  Juliott  should  appear. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Trelyon  ? "  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  in  a 
friendly  way;  and  Harry  nodded.  "I  wish  I  could  throw  a 
fly  like  you.  By  the  bye,  I  have  a  little  bit  of  news  for  you — 
for  yourself  alone,  mind." 

"  All  right ;  fire  away,"  said  Master  Harry,  still  making  the 
fine  line  of  the  trout-rod  whistle  through  the  air. 

"  Well,  it  is  rather  a  delicate  matter,  you  know.  I  don't 
want  it  talked  about ;  but  the  fact  is,  I  am  going  to  marry 
Miss  Rosewarne." 

There  was  no  more  aiming  at  those  bits  of  paper.  The 
tall  and  handsome  lad  turned  and  stared  at  his  companion  as 
if  the  latter  had  been  a  maniac  ;  and  then  he  said — 

"  Miss  Rosewarne  ?     Wenna  Rosewarne  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  distinctly  conscious  that  Harry 
Trelyon  was  regarding  his  white  hair  and  general  appearance. 

The  vounger  man  said  nothing  more,  but  began  to  whistle  in 


THE  AMONG  THE  TAILORS.  47 

an  absent  way ;  and  then,  just  as  if  Mr.  Roscorla  had  no  ex- 
istence whatever,  he  proceeded  to  reel  in  the  line  of  his  rod, 
he  fastened  the  fly  to  one  of  the  rings,  and  then  walked  off. 

"  You'll  find  my  mother  inside,"  he  said ;  and  so  Mr.  Ros- 
corla went  into  the  Hall,  and  was  soon  in  Mrs.  Trelyon's 
drawing-room,  among  her  six  or  eight  guests. 

Harry  Trelyon  did  not  appear  until  dinner  was  announced  ; 
and  then  he  was  just  in  time  to  take  his  grandmother  in.  He 
took  care,  also,  to  have  his  cousin  Juliott  on  his  other  side  ; 
and  to  both  of  these  ladies  it  was  soon  apparent  that  some- 
thing had  occurred  to  put  Master  Harry  into  one  of  his  most 
ungovernable  moods. 

"  Harry  ?  "  said  his  mother,  from  the  other  end  of  the  table, 
as  an  intimation  that  he  should  say  grace. 

There  was  no  response,  despite  Miss  Juliott's  appealing 
look ;  and  so  Mrs.  Trelyon  had  to  turn  for  assistance  to  one 
of  the  clergymen  near  her,  who  went  through  the  prescribed 
form. 

"  Isn't  it  shocking  ?  "  said  Miss  Penaluna,  across  the  table, 
to  Harry's  grandmother,  who  was  not  nearly  so  severe  on  him 
for  such  conduct  as  she  ought  to  have  been. 

"Grace  before  meat  takes  too  much  for  granted,"  said  the 
young  man  unconcernedly.  "  How  can  you  tell  whether  you 
are  thankful  until  you  see  what  sort  of  dinner  it  is  ?  And 
what's  the  use  of  keeping  a  dog  and  barking  yourself  ?  Ain't 
there  three  parsons  down  there  ?  " 

Miss  Juliott,  being  engaged  to  a  clergyman,  very  naturally 
resented  this  language ;  and  the  two  cousins  had  rather  a 
stormy  fight,  at  the  end  of  which  Master  Harry  turned  to  his 
grandmother  and  declared  that  she  was  the  only  woman  of 
common-sense  he  had  ever  known. 

"  Well,  it  runs  in  the  blood,  Harry,"  said  the  old  lady, 
"  that  dislike  to  clergymen ;  and  I  never  could  find  out  any 
reason  for  it,  except  when  your  grandfather  hunted  poor  Mr. 
Pascoe  that  night.  Dear,  dear!  what  a  jealous  man  your 
grandfather  was,  to  be  sure ;  and  the  way  he  used  to  pet  me 
when  I  told  him  I  never  saw  the  man  I'd  look  at  after  seeing 
him.  Dear,  dear  ! — and  the  day  he  sold  those  two  manors  to 
the  Company,  you  know,  he  came  back  at  night  and  said  I 
was  as  good  a  wife  as  any  in  England — he  did,  indeed — and 
the  bracelet  he  gave  me  then,  that  shall  go  to  your  wife  on 
your  wedding-day,  Harry,  I  promise  you,  and  you  won't  find 
its  match  about  this  part  of  the  country,  I  can  tell  you.  But 
don't  you  go  and  sell  the  lordship  of  Trelyon.  Many  a  time 
your  grandfather  was  asked  to  sell  it,  and  he  did  well  by  sell- 


48  THREE  FEATHERS. 

ing  the  other  two ;  but  Trelyon  he  would  never  sell,  nor  your 
father,  and  I  hope  you  won't  either,  Harry.  Let  them  work 
the  quarries  for  you — that  is  fair  enough — and  give  you  your 
royalty  ;  but  don't  part  with  Trelyon,  Harry,  for  you  might  as 
well  be  parting  with  your  own  name." 

"  Well,  I  can't,  grandmother,  you  know  ;  but  I  am  fearfully 
in  want  of  a  big  lump  of  money,  all  the  same." 

"  Money  ?  what  do  you  want  with  a  lot  of  money  ?  You're 
not  going  to  take  to  gambling  or  horse-racing,  are  you  ? " 

"I  can't  tell  you  what  I  want  it  for — not  at  present,  any- 
way," said  the  lad,  looking  rather  gloomy  ;  and  with  that  the 
subject  dropped,  and  a  brief  silence  ensued  at  that  end  of 
the  table. 

Mr.  Tressider,  however,  the  mild  and  amiable  young  curate 
to  whom  Miss  Juliott  was  engaged,  having  been  rather  left 
out  in  the  cold,  struck  in  at  this  moment,  blushing  slightly  : 

"  I  heard  you  say  something  about  lordships  of  manors," 
he  observed,  addressing  himself  rather  to  Trelyons  grand- 
mother. "  Did  it  ever  occur  to  you  what  a  powerful  thing  a 
word  from  William  the  Conqueror  must  have  been,  when  it 
could  give  to  a  particular  person  and  his  decendants  absolute 
possession  of  a  piece  of  the  globe  ? " 

Mrs.  Trelyon  stared  at  the  young  man.  Had  a  relative 
of  hers  gone  and  engaged  herself  to  a  dangerous  Revolution- 
ary, who,  in  the  guise  of  a  priest,  dared  to  trifle  with  the  ten- 
ure of  land?  Mr.  Tressider  was  as  innocent  of  any  such 
intention  as  the  babe  unborn  ;  but  he  was  confused  by  her 
look  of  astonishment,  he  blushed  more  violently  than  before, 
and  only  escaped  from  his  embarrassment  by  the  good  servi 
ces  of  Miss  Penaluna,  who  turned  the  whole  matter  into  ridi- 
cule, and  asked  what  William  the  Conqueror  was  about  when 
he  let  a  piece  of  the  world  come  into  the  hands  of  Harry 
Trelyon. 

"  And  how  deep  down  have  you  a  hold  on  it,  Harry  ?  "  she 
said.  "How  far  does  your  right  over  the  minerals  extend  ? 
From  the  surface  right  down  to  the  centre  ?  '* 

Mr.  Tressider  was  smiling  vaguely  when  Master  Harry's 
eye  fell  upon  him.  What  harm  had  the  young  clergyman, 
or  any  other  clergyman  present,  clone  him  that  he  should 
have  felt  a  sudden  dislike  to  that  ingenuous  smile? 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Trelyon,  with  a  careless  impertinence  ; 
"  William  the  Conqueror  did  not  allow  the  rights  of  the  lord 
of  the  manor  to  extend  right  down  to  the  middle  of  the  earth. 
There  were  a  good  many  clergymen  about  him,  and  they  re- 
served that  district  for  their  own  purposes." 


THE  AMONG  THE  TAILORS.  49 

"  Harry,"  said  his  cousin  to  him,  in  a  low  voice  ;  "  is  it 
your  wish  to  insult  me  ?     If  so,  I  will  leave  the  room." 

"  Insult  you  ?  "  he  said,  with  a  laugh.  "  Why,  jue,  you 
must  be  out  of  your  senses.  What  concern  have  you  in  that 
warmish  region  ? " 

"  I  don't  appreciate  jokes  on  such  subjects.  My  father  is 
a  clergyman,  my  husband  will  be  a  clergyman — " 

"  Worse  luck  for  you,"  he  observed  frankly,  but  so  that 
no  one  could  hear. 

"  Harry,"  she  said,  "  what  do  you  mean  by  your  dislike  to 
clergymen  ?  " 

"  Is  that  a  conundrum  ? "  said,  the  unregenerate  youth. 

For  a  moment  Miss  Penaluna  seemed  really  vexed  and  an- 
gry ;  but  she  happened  to  look  at  Master  Harry,  and,  some- 
how, her  displeasure  subsided  into  a  look  of  good-natured 
resignation.  There  was  the  least  little  shrug  of  the  shoulders  ; 
and  then  she  turned  to  her  neighbor  on  the  right,  and  began 
to  talk  about  ponies. 

It  was  certainly  not  a  pleasant  dinner-party  for  those  who 
sat  near  this  young  gentleman,  who  was  more  outrageously 
capricious  than  ever,  except  when  addressing  his  grand- 
mother, to  whom  he  was  always  courteous,  and  even  roughly 
affectionate.  That  old  lady  eyed  him  narrowly,  and  could 
not  quite  make  out  what  was  the  matter.  Had  he  been  pri- 
vately engaged  in  some  betting  transaction  that  he  should 
want  this  money  ? 

When  the  ladies  left  the  room,  Trelyon  asked  Mr.  Ros- 
corla  to  take  his  place  for  a  few  minutes,  and  send  round  the 
wines ;  and  then  he  went  out  and  called  his  mother  aside 
into  the  study. 

"  Mother,"  he  said,  "  Mr.  Roscorla  is  going  to  marry 
Wrenna  Rosewarne." 

The  tall,  fair,  pale  lady  did  not  seem  much  startled  by  the 
news.  She  had  very  little  acquaintance  with  the  affairs  of 
the  village  ;  but  she  knew  at  least  that  the  Rosewarnes  kept 
the  inn,  and  she  had,  every  Sunday  morning  seen  Mrs.  Rose- 
warne and  her  two  daughters  come  into  church. 

"  That  is  the  elder  one,  is  it  not,  who  sings  in  the  choir  ?  " 

"  It's  the  elder  one,"  said  Master  Harry,  who  knew  less 
about  the  choir. 

"  It  is  a  strange  choice  for  Mr.  Roscorla  to  make,"  she  ob- 
served. "  I  have  always  considered  him  very  fastidious,  and 
rather  proud  of  his  family.  But  some  men  take  strange  fan- 
cies in  choosing  a  wife." 

"  Yes,  and  some  women  take  precious  strange  fancies  in 
4 


50  THREE  EEA  THEP.S. 

choosing  a  husband,"  said  the  young  man,  rather  warmly. 
"  Why,  she's  worth  twenty  dozen  of  him.  I  don't  know  what 
the  dickens  made  her  listen  to  the  old  fool — it  is  a  monstrous 
shame,  that's  what  I  call  it.  I  suppose  he's  frightened  the 
girl  into  it,  or  bought  over  her  father,  or  made  himself  a  hypo- 
crite, and  got  some  person  to  intercede  and  scheme  and  tell 
lies  for  him." 

"  Harry,"  said  his  mother,  "  I  don't  understand  why  you 
should  interest  yourself  in  the  matter." 

"  Oh  !  well,  it's  only  this — that  I  consider  that  girl  to  be  the 
best  sort  of  woman  I've  met  yet — that's  all ;  and  I'll  tell  you 
what  I  mean  to  do,  mother — I  mean  to  give  her  five  thousand 
pounds,  so  that  she  sha'n't  come  to  that  fellow  in  a  dependent 
way,  and  let  him  give  himself  airs  over  her  because  he's  been 
born  a  gentleman." 

"  Five  thousand  pounds  !  "  Mrs.  Trelyon  repeated,  wonder- 
ing whether  her  son  had  drunk  too  much  wine  at  dinner. 

"Well,  but  look  here,  mother,"  he  said,  quite  prepared  for  her 
astonishment.  "You  know  I've  spent  very  little — I've  never 
spent  anything  like  what  I'm  entitled  to ;  and  next  year  I 
shall  be  of  age ;  and  all  I  want  now  is  for  you  to  help  me  to 
get  a  release,  you  know ;  and  I  am  sure  I  shall  be  able  to 
persuade  Colonel  Ransome  to  it,  for  he'll  see  it  is  not  any 
bit  of  extravagance  on  my  part — speculation,  or  anything  of 
that  sort,  you  know — " 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  Mrs.  Trelyon,  startled,  for  once,  into 
earnestness,  "  you  will  make  people  believe  you  are  mad.  To 
give  five  thousand  pounds  to  the  daughter  of  an  innkeeper,  a 
perfect  stranger,  as  a  marriage  dowry — why,  Harry,  what  do 
you  think  people  would  say  of  such  a  thing  ?  W7hat  would 
they  say  of  her  ? " 

He  looked  puzzled  for  a  moment,  as  though  he  did  not  un- 
derstand her.  It  was  but  for  a  moment.  "  If  you  mean 
what  one  of  those  parsons  would  say  of  her,"  he  said,  impet- 
uously, while  a  sudden  flash  of  anger  sprang  to  his  face,  "  I  don't 
care ;  but  my  answer  to  it  would  be  to  kick  him  around  the 
grounds  and  out  at  the  gate.  Do  you  think  I'd  care  a  brass 
farthing  for  anything  these  cringing  sneaks  might  say  of  her, 
or  of  me,  or  of  anybody  ?  And  would  they  dare  to  say  it  if 
you  asked  her  here,  and  made  a  friend  of  her  ? " 

"  Make  a  friend  of  her ! "  repeated  Mrs.  Trelyon,  almost 
mechanically.  She  did  not  know  what  length  this  terrible 
son  of  hers  might  not  go. 

"  If  she  is  not  going  to  marry  a  friend  of  yours,  why  not  ?  " 

"  Harry,  you  are  most  unreasonable — if  you  will  think  it 


THE  AMONG  THE  TAILORS.  51 

over  for  a  moment,  you  will  see  how  this  is  impossible.  If 
Mr.  Roscorla  marries  this  girl,  that  is  his  own  affair ;  he  will 
have  society  enough  at  home,  without  wishing  to  go  out  and 
dine.  He  is  doing  it  with  his  eyes  open,  you  may  be  sure  : 
he  has  far  more  knowledge  of  such  affairs  than  you  can  have. 
How  could  I  single  out  this  girl  from  her  family  to  make  her 
a  friend  ?  I  should  have  to  ask  her  parents  and  her  sister  to 
come  also,  unless  you  wish  her  to  come  here  on  sufferance, 
and  throw  a  reflection  on  them." 

She  spoke  quite  calmly,  but  he  would  not  listen  to  her. 
He  chafed  and  fidgeted,  and  said,  as  soon  as  she  had  fin- 
ished— 

"  You  could  do  it  very  well,  if  you  liked.  When  a  woman 
is  willing  she  can  always  smooth  matters  down." 

Mrs.  Trelyon  flushed  slightly,  and  said,  with  clear  empTia- 
sis — 

"  I  presume  that  I  am  best  fitted  to  say  what  society  I  shall 
keep ;  and  I  shall  have  no  acquaintance  thrust  upon  me  whom 
I  would  rather  not  recognize." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  said  the  lad,  with  the  proud  lips  giving 
evidence  of  some  sudden  decision.  "  And  you  won't  help 
me  to  get  that  five  thousand  pounds  ?  " 

"  I  will  not.     I  will  not  countenance  any  such  folly." 
"  Then  I  shall  have  to  raise  the  money  myself." 
He  rang  a  bell,  and  a  servant  appeared. 
"  Tell  Jakes  to  saddle  Dick  and  bring  him  around  directly." 
His  mother  let  him  have  his  own   way,  without  word  or 
question  ;  for  she  was  deeply  offended,  and  her  feeble  and  sen- 
sitive nature  had  risen  in  protest  against  his  tyranny.     He  went 
off  to  put  on  a  pair  of  riding-boots  and  a  top-coat ;  and  by  and  by 
he  came  down  into  the  hall   again,  and  went  to  the  door. 
The  night  was  dark,  but  clear ;  there  was  a  blaze  of  stars  over- 
head ;  all  the  world  seemed  to  be  quivering  with  those  white 
throbs  of  fire.     The  horse  and  groom  stood  at  the  door,  their 
dusky  figures  being  scarcely  blacker  than  the  trees  and  bushes 
around.     Harry  Trelyon  buttoned  up  the  collar  of  his  light 
top-coat,  took  his  switch  in   his  hand,  and  sprung  into  the 
saddle.     At  the  same  moment  the  white  figure  of  a  lady  sud- 
denly appeared  at  the  door,  and  came  down  a  step  or  two, 
and  said — 

"  Harry,  where  are  you  going  ?  " 

"To  Plymouth  first,"  the  young  man  answered,  as  he 
rode  off,  "  to  London  afterwards,  and  then  to  the  devil !  " 


52  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

CHAPTER   VII. 

SOME     NEW    EXPERIENCES. 

When  the  first  shock  of  fear  and  anxiety  was  over, 
Wenna  Rosewarne  discovered  to  her  great  delight  that  her 
engagement  was  a  very  pleasant  thing.  The  ominous  doubts 
and  regrets  that  had  beset  her  mind  when  she  was  asked  to 
become  Mr.  Roscorla's  wife  seemed  to  disappear  like  clouds 
from  a  morning  sky ;  and  then  followed  a  fair  and  happy 
day,  full  of  abundant  satisfaction  and  calm.  With  much  in- 
ward ridicule  of  her  own  vanity,  she  found  herself  nursing 
a  notion  of  her  self-importance,  and  giving  herself  airs  as  if 
she  were  already  a  married  woman.  Although  the  engage- 
ment wras  kept  a  profound  secret,  the  mere  consciousness 
that  she  had  attained  to  this  position  in  the  world  lent  a 
new  assurance  to  her  as  she  went  about  the  village.  She 
was  gifted  with  a  new  authority  over  despondent  mothers 
and  fractious  children  and  selfish  fathers  as  she  went  her 
daily  rounds ;  and  even  in  her  own  home  Wenna  had  more 
attention  paid  to  her,  now  that  she  was  going  to  marry  Mr. 
Roscorla. 

There  was  but  one  dissentient,  and  that  was  Mabyn  Rose- 
warne, who  fumed  and  fretted  about  the  match,  and  some- 
times was  like  to  cry  over  it,  and  at  other  times  grew 
vastly  indignant,  and  would  have  liked  to  have  gone  and 
given  Mr.  Roscorla  a  bit  of  her  mind.  She  pitied  her 
poor  weak  sister  for  having  been  coaxed  into  an  engage- 
ment by  this  designing  old  man  ;  and  the  poor  weak  sister 
was  vastly  amused  by  her  compassion,  and  was  too  good- 
natured  to  laugh  at  the  valiant  protection  which  this  coura- 
geous young  creature  of  sixteen  offered  her.  Wenna  let  her 
sister  say  what  she  pleased  about  her  herself  or  her  future, 
and  used  no  other  argument  to  stop  angry  words  than  a 
kiss,  so  long  as  Mabyn  spoke  respectfully  of  Mr.  Roscorla. 
But  this  was  precisely  what  Miss  Mabyn  was  disinclined  to  do  ; 
and  the  consequence  was  that  their  interviews  were  generally 
ended  by  Wenna  becoming  indignant,  drawing  herself  up, 
and  leaving  the  room.  Then  Mabyn  would  follow,  and  make 
up  the  quarrel,  and  promise  never  to  offend  again  ;  but  ail 
the  same  she  cherished  a  deadly  animosity  towards  Mr. 
Roscorla  in  her  heart,  and,  when  her  sister  was  not  present, 
she  amused  her  father  and  shocked  her  mother  by  giving  a 


SOME  NEW  EXPERIENCES.  53 

series  of  imitations  of  Mr.  Roscorla's  manner  which  that 
gentleman  would  scarcely  like  to  have  seen. 

The  young  lady,  however,  soon  invented  what  she  consid- 
ered a  far  more  effectual  means  of  revenging  herself  on 
Mr.  Roscorla.  She  never  left  Wenna's  side.  No  sooner 
did  the  eldest  sister  prepare  to  go  out,  than  Miss  Mabyn 
discovered  that  she  too  would  like  a  walk ;  and  she  so 
persistently  did  this  that  Wenna  soon  took  it  for  granted 
that  her  sister  would  go  with  her  wherever  she  went,  and 
invariably  waited  for  her.  Accordingly  Mr.  Roscorla  never 
by  any  chance  went  walking  with  Wenna  Rosewarne  alone ; 
and  the  younger  sister — herself  too  sulky  to  enter  into 
conversation  with  him— used  to  enjoy  the  malicious  pleasure 
of  watching  him  shape  his  talk  to  suit  the  presence  of  a 
third  person.  For  of  course  Miss  Mabyn  had  read  in  books 
of  the  beautiful  manner  in  which  lovers  speak  to  each 
other,  and  of  their  tender  confidences  as  they  sit  by  the  sea 
or  go  rambling  through  the  summer  woods.  Was  not  the 
time  opportune  for  these  idyllic  ways?  All  the  uplands 
were  yellowed  with  tall-standing  corn  ;  the  sea  was  as  blue 
and  as  still  as  the  sky  overhead ;  the  gardens  of  Eglosilyan 
were  sweet  with  honeysuckle  and  moss-roses,  and  in  the 
evenings  a  pale  pink  mist  hung  around  the  horizon,  while 
the  silver  sickle  of  the  moon  came  up  into  the  violet  sky, 
and  the  first  pale  stars  appeared  in  the  east. 

"  If  our  Wenna  had  a  proper  sort  of  lover,"  Miss  Mabyn 
used  to  say  to  herself,  bitterly,  "  wouldn't  I  scheme  to  have 
them  left  alone  ?  I  would  watch  for  them  like  a  watch-dog 
that  no  one  should  come  near  them,  and  I  should  be  as 
proud  of  him  as  WTenna  herself ;  and  how  happy  she  would 
be  in  talking  to  me  about  him  !  But  this  horrid  old  wretch 
— I  wish  he  would  fall  over  Black  Cliff  some  day  !  " 

She  was  not  aware  that,  in  becoming  the  constant  com- 
panion of  her  sister,  she  was  affording  this  dire  enemy  of 
hers  a  vast  amount  of  relief.  Mr.  Roscorla  was  in  every 
way  satisfied  with  his  engagement;  the  more  he  saw  of 
Wenna  Rosewarne,  the  more  he  admired  her  utter  self- 
forge  tfulness,  and  liked  a  quaint  and  shy  sort  of  humor  that 
interfused  her  talk  and  her  ways  ;  but  he  greatly  preferred 
not  to  be  alone  with  her.  He  was  then  beset  by  some 
vague  impression  that  certain  things  were  demanded  of  him, 
in  the  character  of  a  lover,  which  were  exceedingly  embar- 
rassing; and  which,  if  he  did  not  act  the  part  well,  might 
awaken  her  ridicule.  On  the  other  hand,  if  he  admitted  all 
those  things,   might  she   not  be    surprised   by  his    lack   of 


54  THREE  FEATHERS. 

affection,  begin  to  suspect  him,  and  end  in  disliking  him  ? 
Yet  he  knew  that  not  for  ten  thousand  worlds  could  he 
muster  up  courage  to  repeat  one  line  of  sentimental  poetry 
to  her. 

As  yet  he  had  never  even  had  the  courage  to  kiss  her.  He 
knew  that  this  was  wrong.  In  his  own  house  he  reflected 
that  a  man  engaged  to  a  woman  ought  surely  to  give  her 
some  such  mark  of  affection — say,  in  bidding  her  good-night ; 
and  thereupon  Mr.  Roscorla  would  resolve  that  as  he  left 
the  inn  that  evening  he  would  endeavor  to  kiss  his  future 
bride.  He  never  succeeded.  Somehow  Wenna  always  parted 
from  him  in  a  merry  mood.  These  were  pleasant  evenings 
in  Mrs.  Rosewarne's  parlor ;  there  was  a  good  deal  of  quiet 
fun  going  on  ;  and  if  Wenna  did  come  along  the  passage  to 
the  door  with  him,  she  was  generally  talking  and  laughing  all 
the  way.  Of  course  he  was  not  going  to  kiss  her  in  that 
mood — as  if,  to  use  his  own  expression,  he  had  been  a  jocu- 
lar ploughboy. 

He  had  kissed  her  hand  once.  That  was  on  his  first  meet- 
ing her  after  she  had  written  the  letter  in  which  she  promised 
to  be  his  wife,  and  Mrs.  Rosewarne  had  sent  him  into  the 
room  where  she  knew  her  daughter  was  alone.  Wenna  rose 
up  to  meet  him,  pale,  frightened,  with  her  eyes  downcast.  He 
took  her  hand  and  kissed  it ;  and  then,  after  a  pause,  he  said, 
"  I  hope  I  shall  make  you  happy."  She  could  not  answer. 
She  began  to  tremble  violently.  He  asked  her  to  sit 
down,  and  begged  of  her  not  to  be  disturbed.  She  was 
recalled  to  herself  by  the  accidental  approach  of  her 
sister  Mabyn,  who  came  along  the  passage,  singing,  "Oh, 
the  men  of  merry,  merry  England,"  in  excellent  imitation  of 
the  way  in  which  Harry  Trelyon  used  to  sing  that  once  famous 
song  as  he  rode  his  black  horse  along  the  highways.  Mabyn 
came  into  the  room,  stared,  and  would  have  gone  out,  but 
that  her  sister  called  to  her  and  asked  her  to  come  and  hold 
down  a  pattern  while  she  cut  some  cloth.  Mabyn  wondered 
that  her  sister  should  be  so  diligent  when  a  visitor  was  present. 
She  saw,  too,  that  Wenna's  fingers  trembled.  Then  she  re- 
mained in  the  room  until  Mr.  Roscorla  went,  sitting  by  the 
window  and  not  overhearing  their  conversation,  but  very  much 
inclined'  to  break  in  upon  it  by  asking  him  how  he  dared  to 
come  there  and  propose  to  marry  her  sister  Wenna. 

"  Oh,  Wenna,"  she  said,  one  evening  some  time  after,  when 
the  two  sisters  were  sitting  out  on  the  rocks  at  the  end  of  the 
harbor,  watching  the  sun  go  down  behind  the  sea,  "  I  cannot 
bear  him  coming  to  take  you  away  like  that.     I  shouldn't 


SOME  NEW  EXPERIENCES.  55 

mind  if  he  were  like  a  sweetheart  to  you  ;  but  he's  a  multi- 
plication-table sort  of  sweetheart — everything  so  regular  and 
accurate  and  proper.  I  hate  a  man  who  always  thinks  what 
he's  going  to  say,  and  always  has  neat  sentences ;  and  he 
watches  you,  and  is  so  self-satisfied,  and  his  information  is 
always  so  correct.  Oh,  Wenna,  I  wish  you  had  a  young  and 
beautiful  lover,  like  a  Prince  !  " 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  the  elder  sister,  with  a  smile,  "  young 
and  beautiful  lovers  are  for  young  and  beautiful  girls,  like 
you." 

"  Oh,  Wenna,  how  can  you  talk  like  that !  "  said  the  younger 
sister  ;  "  why  will  you  always  believe  that  you  are  less  pretty 
than  other  people,  when  every  one  knows  that  you  have  the 
most  beautiful  eyes  in  all  the  world.  You  have  !  There's 
not  anybody  in  all  the  world  has  such  beautiful  and  soft  eyes 
as  you — you  ask  anybody  and  they  will  tell  you,  if  you  don't 
believe  me.  But  I  have  no  doubt — I  have  no  doubt  whatever 
— that  Mr.  Roscorla  will  try  to  make  you  believe  that  you  are 
very  ugly,  so  that  you  mayn't  think  you've  thrown  yourself 
away." 

Miss  Mabyn  looked  very  indignant,  and  very  much  inclined 
to  cry  at  the  same  time  ;  but  the  gentle  sister  put  her  hand 
on  hers,  and  said — 

"You  will  make  me  quarrel  with  you  some  day,  Mabyn,  if 
you  are  so  unjust  to  Mr.  Roscorla.  You  are  continually  ac- 
cusing him  of  things  of  which  he  never  dreams.  Now  he  never 
gets  a  chance  that  he  does  not  try  to  praise  me  in  every  way, 
and  if  there  were  no  looking-glasses  in  the  world  I  have  no 
doubt  he  would  make  me  believe  I  was  quite  lovely  ;  and  you 
shouldn't  say  those  things  of  him,  Mabyn — it  isn't  fair.  He 
always  speaks  kindly  of  you.  He  thinks  you  are  very  pretty, 
and  that  you  will  grow  up  to  be  very  beautiful  when  you  be- 
come a  woman." 

Mabyn  was  not  to  be  pacified  by  this  ingenuous  piece  of 
flattery. 

"You  are  such  a  simpleton,  Wenna,"  she  said,  "he  can 
make  you  believe  anything." 

"  He  does  not  try  to  make  me  believe  anything  I  don't 
know  already,"  said  the  elder  sister,  with  some  asperity. 

"  He  tries  to  make  you  believe  he  is  in  love  with  you," 
said  Mabyn,  bluntly. 

Wenna  Rosewarne  colored  up,  and  was  silent  for  a  min- 
ute. How  was  she  to  explain  to  this  sister  of  hers  all  those 
theories  which  Mr.  Roscorla  had  described  to  her  in  his  first 


S6  THREE  FEATHERS. 

two  or  three  letters  ?  She  felt  that  she  had  not  the  same 
gift  of  expression  that  he  had. 

"  You  don't  understand — you  don't  understand  at  all,  Ma- 
byn,  what  you  talk  of  as  love.  I  suppose  you  mean  the  sort 
of  wild  madness  you  read  of  in  books  ;  well,  I  don't  want 
that  kind  of  love  at  all.  There  is  a  quite  different  sort  of 
love,  that  comes  of  respect  and  affection  and  an  agreement 
of  wishes,  and  that  is  far  more  valuable  and  likely  to  be  last- 
ing. I  don't  want  a  lover  who  would  do  wild  things,  and 
make  one  wonder  at  his  heroism,  for  that  is  the  lover  you  get 
in  books  ;  but  if  you  want  to  live  a  happy  life,  and  please 
those  around  you,  and  be  of  service  to  them,  you  must  have 
a  very  different  sort  of  sweetheart — a  man  who  will  think  of 
something  else  than  a  merely  selfish  passion,  who  will  help 
you  to  be  kind  to  other  people,  and  whose  affection  will  last 
through  years  and  years." 

"  You  have  learned  your  lesson  very  well,"  said  Miss  Ma- 
byn,  with  a  toss  of  her  head.  "  He  has  spent  some  time  in 
teaching  you.  But  as  for  all  that,  Wenna,  it's  nothing  but 
fudge.  What  a  girl  wants  is  to  be  really  loved  by  a  man, 
and  then  she  can  do  without  all  those  fine  sentiments.  As 
for  Mr.  Roscorla — " 

"  I  do  not  think  we  are  likely  to  agree  on  this  matter, 
dear,"  said  Wenna,  calmly,  as  she  rose,  "and* so  we  had  bet- 
ter say  nothing  about  it." 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  going  to  quarrel  with  you,  Wenna,"  said 
the  younger  sister,  promptly.  "You  and  I  will  always  agree 
very  well.  It  is  Mr.  Roscorla  and  I  who  are  not  likely  to 
agree  very  well — not  at  all  likely,  I  can  assure  you." 

They  were  walking  back  to  Eglosilyan,  under  the  clear 
evening  skies,  when  whom  should  they  see  coming  out  to 
meet  them  but  Mr.  Roscorla  himself.  It  was  a  pleasant 
time  and  place  for  lovers  to  come  together.  The  warm  light 
left  by  the  sunset  still  shone  across  the  hills  ;  the  clear  blue- 
green  water  in  the  tiny  harbor  lay  perfectly  still ;  Eglosilyan 
had  got  it's  day's  work  over,  and  was  either  chatting  in  the 
cottage  gardens  or  strolling  clown  to  have  a  look  at  the 
couple  of  coasters  moored  behind  the  small  but  powerful 
breakwater.  But  Mr.  Roscorla  had  had  no  hope  of  discov- 
ering Wenna  alone  ;  he  was  quite  as  well  content  to  find 
Mabyn  with  her,  though  that  young  lady,  as  he  came  up, 
looked  particularly  fierce,  and  did  not  smile  at  all  when  she 
shook  hands  with  him.  Was  it  the  red  glow  in  the  west  that 
gave  an  extra  tinge  of  color  to  Roscorla's  face  ?  Wenna  felt 
that  she  was  better  satisfied  with  her  engagement  when  her 


WENNA' S  FIRST  TRIUMPH.  57 

lover  was  not  present ;  but  she  put  that  down  to  a  natural 
shyness  and  modesty  which  she  considered  was  probably 
common  to  all  girls  in  these  strange  circumstances. 

Mr.  Roscorla  wished  to  convey  the  two  young  ladies  back 
to  the  inn,  and  evidently  meant  to  spend  the  evening  there. 
But  Miss  Wenna  ill  requited  his  gallantry  by  informing  him 
that  she  had  intended  to  make  one  or  two  calls  in  the  eve- 
ning, which  would  occupy  some  time  :  in  particular,  she  had 
undertaken  to  do  something  for  Mrs.  Luke's  eldest  girl  ;  and 
she  had  also  promised  to  go  in  and  read  for  half  an  hour  to 
Nicholas  Keam,  the  brother  of  the  wife  of  the  owner  of  the 
Napoleon  Hotel,  who  was  very  ill  indeed,  and  far  too  languid 
to  read  for  himself. 

"  But  you  know,  Mr.  Roscorla,"  said  Mabyn,  with  a  bitter 
malice,  "  If  you  would  go  into  the  Napoleon  and  read  to  Mr. 
Keam,  Wenna  and  I  could  go  up  to  Mother  Luke's  and  so 
we  should  save  all  that  time,  and  I  am  sure  Wenna  is  very 
tired  to-day.  Then  you  would  be  so  much  better  able  to 
pick  out  the  things  in  the  papers  that  Mr.  Keam  wants ;  for 
Wenna  never  knows  what  is  old  and  what  is  new,  and  Mr. 
Keam  is  anxious  to  learn  what  is  going  on  in  politics,  and  the 
Irish  Church,  and  that  kind  of  thing." 

Could  he  refuse  ?  Surely  a  man  who  has  just  got  a  girl  to 
say  she  will  marry  him  ought  not  to  think  twice  about  sacri- 
ficing half  an  hour  to  helping  her  in  her  occupations,  espe- 
cially if  she  be  tired.  Wenna  could  not  have  made  the  re- 
quest herself ;  but  she  was  anxious  that  he  should  say  yes, 
now  it  had  been  made,  for  it  was  in  a  manner  a  test  of  his 
devotion  to  her ;  and  she  was  overjoyed  and  most  grateful 
to  him  when  he  consented.  What  Mabyn  thought  of  the 
matter  was  not  visible  on  her  face. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

wenna's  first  triumph. 

The  two  girls,  as  they  went  up  the  main  street  of  Eglosil- 
yan  (it  was  sweet  with  the  scent  of  flowers  on  this  beautiful 
evening),  left  Mr.  Roscorla  in  front  of  the  obscure  little  pub- 
lic-house he  had  undertaken  to  visit ;  and  it  is  probable  that 
in  the  whole  of  England  at  that  moment  there  was  not  a 
more  miserable  man.  He  knew  this  Nicholas  Keam,  and 
his  sister,  and  lv'c  brother-in-law,  so  far  as  their  names  went, 


58  THREE  FEATHERS. 

and  they  knew  him  by  sight ;  but  he  had  never  said  more 
than  good-morning  to  any  one  of  them,  and  he  had  certainly 
never  entered  this  pot-house,  where  a  sort  of  debating  society 
was  nightly  held  by  the  habitues.  But,  all  the  same,  he 
would  do  what  he  had  undertaken  to  do,  for  Wenna  Rose- 
warne's  sake  ;  and  it  was  with  some  sensation  of  a  despair- 
ing heroism  that  he  went  up  the  steps  of  slate  and  crossed 
the  threshold. 

He  looked  into  the  place  from  the  passage.  He  found 
before  him  what  was  really  a  large  kitchen,  with  a  spacious 
fireplace,  and  heavy  rafters  across  the  roof ;  but  all  around 
the  walls  there  was  a  sort  of  bench  with  a  high  wooden  back 
to  it,  and  on  this  seat  sat  a  number  of  men — one  or  two 
laborers,  the  rest  slate-workers — who,  in  the  dusk,  were  idly 
smoking  and  looking  at  the  beer  on  the  narrow  tables  before 
them.  Was  this  the  sort  of  place  that  his  future  wife  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  visiting  ?  There  was  a  sort  of  gloomy 
picturesqueness  about  the  chamber,  to  be  sure  ;  for,  warm 
as  the  evening  wras,  a  fire  burned  flickeringly  in  the  grate ; 
there  was  enough  light  to  show  the  tin  and  copper  vessels 
shining  over  the  high  mantel-piece  ;  and  a  couple  of  fair- 
haired  children  were  playing  about  the  middle  of  the  floor, 
little  heeding  the  row  of  dusky  figures  around  the  tables, 
whose  heads  were  half  hidden  by  tobacco-smoke. 

A  tall,  thin,  fresh-colored  woman  came  along  the  passage  ; 
and  Mr.  Roscorla  was  glad  that  he  had  not  to  go  in  among 
these  laborers  to  make  his  business  known.  It  was  bad 
enough  to  have  to  speak  to  Mrs.  Haigh,  the  landlady  of  the 
Napoleon. 

"  Good-morning,  Mrs.  Haigh,"  said  he  with  an  appearance 
of  cheerfulness. 

"  Good-evenin',  zor,"  said  she,  staring  at  him  with  those 
cruelly  shrewd  and  clear  eyes  that  the  Cornish  peasantry 
have. 

"  I  called  in  to  see  Mr.  Ream,"  said  he.  "  Is  he  much 
better  ?  " 

"  If  yii'd  like  vor  to  see'n,  zor,"  said  she  rather  slowly,  as 
if  waiting  for  further  explanation,  yii'll  vind'n  in  the  rum  " 
— and  with  that  she  opened  the  door  of  a  room  on  the  other 
side  of  the  passage.  It  was  obviously  the  private  parlor  of 
the  household — an  odd  little  chamber  with  plenty  of  colored 
lithographs  on  the  walls,  and  china  and  photographs  on  the 
mantel-piece  ;  the  floor  of  large  blocks  of  slate  ornamented 
with  various  devices  in  chalk  ;  in  the  corner  a  cupboard  filled 
with  old  cut  crystal,  brass  candlesticks,  and  other  articles  of  lux 


WENNA'S  FIRST  TRIUMPH.  59 

ury.  The  room  had  one  occupant — a  tall  man  who  sat  in  a 
big  wooden  chair  by  the  window,  his  head  hanging  forward 
between  his  high  shoulders,  and  his  thin  white  hands  on  the 
arms  of  the  chair.  The  sunken  cheeks,  the  sallow-white 
complexion,  the  listless  air,  and  an  occasional  sigh  of  resig- 
nation, told  a  sufficiently  plain  story ;  although  Mrs.  Haigh, 
in  regarding  her  brother,  and  speaking  to  him  in  a  low  voice, 
as  if  to  arouse  his  attention,  wore  an  air  of  brisk  cheerfulness 
strangely  in  contrast  with  the  worn  look  of  his  face. 

"  Don't  yii  knaw  Mr.  Roscorla,  brother  Nicholas  ? "  said 
his  sister.  "  Don't  yu'  look  mazed,  when  he's  come  vor  to 
zee  if  yii're  better.  And  yii  be  much  better  to-day,  brother 
Nicholas  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think,"  said  the  sick  man,  agreeing  with  his  sister 
out  of  mere  listlessness. 

"  Oh  yes,  I  think  you  look  much  better,"  said  Mr.  Ros- 
corla, hastily  and  nervously,  for  he  feared  that  both  these 
people  would  see  in  his  face  what  he  thought  of  this  unhappy 
man's  chances  of  living.  But  Nicholas  Keam  mostly  kept 
his  eyes  turned  towards  the  floor,  except  when  the  brisk, 
loud  voice  of  his  sister  roused  him  and  caused  him  to  look 
up. 

A  most  awkward  pause  ensued.  Mr.  Roscorla  felt  con- 
vinced they  would  think  he  was  mad  if  he  offered  to  sit  down 
in  this  parlor  and  read  the  newspapers  to  the  invalid  ;  he  for- 
got that  they  did  not  know  him  as  well  as  he  did  himself. 
On  the  other  hand  would  they  not  consider  him  a  silly  per- 
son if  he  admitted  that  he  only  made  the  offer  in  order  to 
please  a  girl  ?  Besides,  he  could  see  no  newspapers  in  the 
room.  Fortunately,  at  this  moment  Mr.  Keam  himself  came 
to  the  rescue  by  saying,  in  a  slow  and  languid  way — 

"  I  did  expect  vor  to  zee  Miss  Rosewarne  this  evenin' — 
yaas,  I  did ;  and  she  were  to  read  me  the  news  ;  but  I  sup- 
pose now —  " 

"  Oh  ! "  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  quickly,  "  I  have  just  seen  Miss 
Rosewarne — she  told  me  she  expected  to  see  you,  but  was  a 
little  tired.  Now,  if  you  like,  I  will  read  the  newspapers  to 
you  as  long  as  the  light  lasts." 

"Why  don't  yii  thank  the  gentleman,  brother  Nicholas  ? " 
said  Mrs.  Haigh,  who  was  apparently  most  anxious  to  get  away 
to  her  duties.  "  That  be  very  kind  of  yii,  zor.  'Tis  a  great 
comfort  to  'n  to  hear  the  news ;  and  I'll  send  yii  in  the  papers 
at  once.  Yii  com  away  with  me,  Rosana,  and  yii  can  come 
agwain  and  bring  the  gentleman  the  newspapers." 

She  dragged  off  with  her  a  small  girl  who  had  wandered 


6o  THREE  FEATHERS. 

in  ;  and  Mr.  Roscorla  was  left  alone  with  the  sick  man.  The 
feelings  in  his  heart  were  not  those  which  Wenna  would 
have  expected  to  find  there  as  the  result  of  the  exercise  of 
charity. 

The  small  girl  came  back,  and  gave  him  the  newspaper. 
He  began  to  read  ;  she  sat  down  before  him  and  stared  up 
into  his  face.  Then  a  brother  of  hers  came  in,  and  he,  too, 
sat  down,  and  proceeded  to  stare.  Mr.  Roscorla  inwardly 
began  to  draw  pictures  of  the  astonishment  of  certain  of  his 
old  acquaintances  if  they  had  suddenly  opened  that  small 
door,  and  found  him,  in  the  parlor  of  an  ale-house,  reading 
stale  political  articles  to  an  apparently  uninterested  invalid 
and  a  couple  of  cottage  children. 

He  was  thankful  that  the  light  was  rapidly  declining ;  and 
long  before  he  had  reached  the  half-hour  he  made  that 
his  excuse  for  going. 

"The  next  time  1  come,  Mr.  Keam,"  said  he,  cheerfully,  as 
he  rose  and  took  his  hat,  "  I  shall  come  earlier." 

"I  did  expect  vor  to  zee  Miss  Rosewarne  this  evenin','' 
said  Nicholas  Keam,  ungratefully  paying  no  heed  to  the 
hypocritical  offer ;  "  vor  she  were  here  yesterday  marnin', 
and  she  told  me  that  Mr.  Trelyon  had  zeen  my  brother  in 
London  streets,  and  I  want  vor  to  know  mower  about  'n. 
I  dii." 

"  She  told  you  ? "  Mr.  Roscorla  said,  with  a  sudden  and 
wild  suspicion  filling  his  mind.  "How  did  she  know  that 
Mr.  Trelyon  was  in  London  ?  " 

"  How  did  she  knaw  ?  "repeated  the  sick  man,  indolently. 
"Why,  he  zaid  zo  in  the  letter." 

So  Mr.  Trelyon  whose  whereabouts  were  not  even  known 
to  his  own  family,  was  in  correspondence  with  Miss  Rose- 
warne, and  she  had  carefully  concealed  the  fact  from  the 
man  she  was  going  to  marry.  Mr.  Roscorla  rather  absently 
took  his  leave.  When  he  went  outside  a  clear  twilight  was 
shining  over  Eglosilyan,  and  the  first  of  the  yellow  stars  were 
palely  visible  in  the  gray.  He  walked  slowly  down  towards 
the  inn. 

If  Mr.  Roscorla  had  any  conviction  on  any  subject  what- 
ever, it  was  this — that  no  human  being  ever  thoroughly 
and  without  reserve  revealed  himself  or  herself  to  any 
other  human  being.  Of  course  he  did  not  bring  that  as 
a  charge  against  the  human  race,  or  against  that  member 
of  it  from  whose  individual  experience  he  had  derived  his  the- 
ory— himself;  he  merely  accepted  this  thing  as  one  of  the 
facts  of  life.     People,  he  considered,  might  be   fairly  honest, 


WENNA'S  FIRST  TRIUMPH.  6x 

well-intentioned,  and  moral  ;  but  inside  the  circle  of  their 
actions  and  sentiments  that  were  openly  declared  there  was 
another  circle  only  known  to  themselves  ;  and  to  this  region 
the  foul  bird  of  suspicion,  as  soon  as  it  was  born,  immedi- 
ately fled  on  silent  wings.  Not  that,  after  a  minute's  con- 
sideration, he  suspected  anything  very  terrible  in  the  present 
case.  He  was  more  vexed  than  alarmed.  And  yet  at 
times,  as  he  slowly  walked  down  the  steep  street,  he  grew  a 
little  angry,  and  wondered  how  this  apparently  ingenuous 
creature  should  have  concealed  from  him  her  correspon- 
dence with  Harry  Trelyon,  and  resolved  that  he  would  have 
a  speedy  explanation  of  the  whole  matter.  He  was  too 
shrewd  a  man  of  the  world  to  be  tricked  by  a  girl,  or  trifled 
with  by  an  impertinent  lad. 

He  was  overtaken  by  the  two  girls,  and  they  walked 
together  the  rest  of  the  way.  Wenna  was  in  excellent 
spirits,  and  was  very  kind  and  grateful  to  him.  Somehow, 
when  he  heard  her  low  and  sweet  laughter,  and  saw  the  frank 
kindness  of  her  dark  eyes,  he  abandoned  the  gloomy  sus- 
picions that  had  crossed  his  mind ;  but  he  still  considered 
that  he  had  been  injured,  and  that  the  injury  was  all  the 
greater  in  that  he  had  just  been  persuaded  into  making 
a  fool  of  himself  for  Wenna  Rosewarne's  sake. 

He  said  nothing  to  her,  then,  of  course  ;  and,  as  the 
evening  passed  cheerfully  enough  in  Mrs.  Rosewarne's 
parlor,  he  resolved  he  would  postpone  inquiry  into  this 
matter.  He  had  never  seen  Wenna  so  pleased  herself, 
and  so  obviously  bent  on  pleasing  others.  She  petted  her 
mother,  and  said  slyly  sarcastic  things  of  her  father,  until 
George  Rose  warn  e  roared  with  laughter ;  she  listened  with 
respectful  eyes  and  attentive  ears  when  Mr.  Roscorla  pro- 
nounced an  opinion  on  the  affairs  of  the  day;  and  she 
dexterously  cut  rolls  of  paper  and  dressed  up  her  sister 
Mabyn  to  represent  a  lady  of  the  time  of  Elizabeth,  to 
the  admiration  of  everybody.  Mr.  Roscorla  had  inwardly 
to  confess  that  he  had  secured  for  himself  a  most  charming 
and  delightful  wife,  who  would  make  a  wonderful  difference 
in  those  dull  evenings  up  at  Basset  Cottage. 

He  only  half  guessed  the  origin  of  Miss  Wenna's  great 
and  obvious  satisfaction.  It  was  really  this — that  she  had 
that  evening  reaped  the  first  welcome  fruits  of  her  new  rela- 
tions in  finding  Mr.  Roscorla  ready  to  go  and  perform  acts  of 
charity.  But  for  her  engagement,  that  would  certainly  not 
have  happened ;  and  this,  she  believed  was  but  the  auspi- 
cious beginning.    Of  course  Mr.  Roscorla  would  have  laughed 


62  THREE  FEATHERS. 

if  she  had  informed  him  of  her  belief  that  the  regeneration  of 
the  whole  little  world  of  Eglosilyan — something  like  the  Mil- 
lennium, indeed — was  to  come  about  merely  because  an  inn- 
keeper's daughter  was  about  to  be  made  a  married  woman. 
Wenna  Rosewarne,  however,  did  not  formulate  any  such 
belief ;  but  she  was  none  the  less  proud  of  the  great  results 
that  had  already  been  secured  by — by  what  ?  By  her  sacri- 
fice of  herself  ?     She  did  not  pursue  the  subject  so  far. 

Her  delight  was  infectious.  Mr.  Roscorla,  as  he  walked 
home  that  night — under  the  throbbing  starlight,  with  the 
sound  of  the  Atlantic  murmuring  through  the  darkness — was, 
on  the  whole,  rather  pleased  that  he  had  been  vexed  on  hear- 
ing of  that  letter  from  Harry  Trelyon.  He  would  continue 
to  be  vexed.  He  would  endeavor  to  be  jealous  without 
measure  ;  for  how  can  jealousy  exist  if  an  anxious  love  is  not 
also  present  ?  and,  in  fact,  should  not  a  man  who  is  really 
fond  of  a  woman  be  quick  to  resent  the  approach  of  any  one 
who  seems  to  interfere  with  his  right  of  property  in  her  affec- 
tions ?  By  the  time  he  reached  Basset  Cottage,  Mr.  Ros- 
corla had  very  nearly  persuaded  himself  into  the  belief  that 
he  was  really  in  love  with  Wenna  Rosewarne. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  RING  OF  EVIL  OMEN. 

One  of  Wenna's  many  friends  outside  the  village  in  which 
she  lived  was  a  strange  misshapen  creature  who  earned  his 
living  by  carrying  sand  from  one  of  the  bays  on  the  coast  to 
the  farmers  on  the  uplands  above.  This  he  did  by  means  of 
a  troop  of  donkeys — small,  rough,  Jight-haired,  and  large- 
eyed  animals — that  struggled  up  the  rude  and  steep  path  on 
the  face  of  the  cliff,  with  the  bags  on  their  backs  that  he  had 
laboriously  filled  below.  It  was  a  sufficiently  cheerless 
occupation  for  this  unfortunate  hunchback,  and  not  a  very 
profitable  one.  The  money  he  got  from  the  farmers  did  not 
much  more  than  cover  the  keep  of  the  donkeys.  He  seldom 
spoke  to  any  human  being  ;  for  who  was  going  to  descend 
that  rough  and  narrow  path  down  to  the  shore — where  he 
and  his  donkeys  appeared  to  be  no  bigger  than  mice — with 
the  knowledge  that  there  was  no  path  around  the  precipitous 
-soast  and  that  nothing  would  remain  but  the  long  climb  up 
S£ain  ? 


THE  RING  OF  EVIL  OMEN.  63 

Wenna  Rosewarne  had  some  pity  for  this  solitary  wretch, 
who  toiled  at  his  task  with  the  melancholy  Atlantic  before 
him,  and  behind  him  a  great  and  lonely  wall  of  crumbling 
slate  ;  and,  whenever  she  had  time,  she  used  to  walk  with 
her  sister  across  from  Eglosilyan  by  the  high-lying  downs 
until  they  reached  this  little  indentation  in  the  coast  where  a 
curve  of  yellow  sand  was  visible  far  below.  If  this  poor 
fellow  and  his  donkeys  were  to  be  seen  from  the  summit,  the 
two  girls  had  little  fear  of  the  fatigue  of  descending  the  path 
down  the  side  of  the  steep  cliff ;  and  the  object  of  their  visit 
used  to  be  highly  pleased  and  flattered  by  their  coming  to 
chat  with  him  for  a  few  minutes.  He  would  hasten  the  filling 
of  his  bags  so  as  to  ascend  again  with  them,  and,  in  a  strange 
tongue  that  even  the  two  Cornish  girls  could  not  always  un- 
derstand, he  would  talk  to  them  of  the  merits  of  his  favorite 
donkeys,  of  their  willingness  and  strength  and  docility. 
They  never  took  him  any  tracts  ;  they  never  uttered  a  word 
of  condolence  or  sympathy.  Their  visit  was  merely  of  the 
nature  of  a  friendly  call ;  but  it  was  a  mark  of  attention  and 
kindliness  that  gave  the  man  something  pleasant  to  think  of 
for  days  thereafter. 

Now  on  one  of  these  occasions  Mr.  Roscorla  went  with 
Wenna  and  her  sister ;  and  although  he  did  not  at  all  see  the 
use  of  going  down  this  precipitous  cliff  for  the  mere  purpose 
of  toiling  up  again,  he  was  not  going  to  confess  that  he 
dreaded  the  fatigue  of  it.  Moreover,  this  was  another  mis- 
sion of  charity  ;  and,  although  he  had  not  called  again  on  Mr. 
Keam — although,  in  fact,  he  had  inwardly  vowed  that  the 
prayers  of  a  thousand  angels  would  not  induce  him  again  to 
visit  Mr.  Keam — he  was  anxious  that  Wenna  should  believe 
that  he  still  remained  her  pupil.  So,  with  a  good  grace,  he 
went  down  the  tortuous  pathway  to  the  desolate  little  bay 
where  the  sand-carrier  was  at  work.  He  stood  and  looked 
at  the  sea  while  Wenna  chatted  with  her  acquaintance ;  he 
studied  the  rigging  of  the  distant  ships ;  he  watched  the 
choughs  and  daws  flying  about  the  face  of  the  rocks ;  he  drew 
figures  on  the  sand  with  the  point  of  his  cane,  and  wondered 
whether  he  would  be  back  in  good  time  for  luncheon  if  this 
garrulous  hunchback  jabbered  in  his  guttural  way  for  another 
hour.  Then  he  had  the  pleasure  of  climbing  up  the  cliff 
again,  with  a  whole  troop  of  donkeys  going  before  him  in  In- 
dian file  up  the  narrow  and  zigzag  path,  and  at  last  he  reached 
the  summit.  His  second  effort  in  the  way  of  charity  had  been 
accomplished. 

He  proposed  that  the  young  ladies  should  sit  down  to  rest 


64  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

for  a  few  minutes,  after  the  donkeys  and  their  driver  had  de- 
parted ;  and  accordingly  the  three  strangers  chose  a  block  of 
slate  for  a  seat,  with  the  warm  grass  for  a  footstool,  and  all 
around  them  the  beauty  of  an  August  morning.  The  sea  was 
ruffled  into  a  dark  blue  where  it  neared  the  horizon ;  but 
closer  at  hand  it  was  pale  and  still.  The  sun  was  hot  on  the 
bleak  pasture-land.  There  was  a  scent  of  fern  and  wild  thyme 
in  the  air. 

"  By  the  way,  Wenna,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  "  I  wonder  you 
have  never  asked  me  why  I  have  not  yet  got  you  an  engaged 
ring." 

"  Wenna  does  not  want  an  engaged  ring,"  said  Miss  Mabyn, 
sharply.     "  They  are  not  worn  now." 

This  audacious  perversion  of  fact  on  the  part  of  the  self-willed 
young  beauty  was  in  reality  a  sort  of  cry  of  despair.  If  Mr. 
Roscorla  had  not  yet  spoken  of  a  ring  to  Wenna,  Mabyn  had ; 
and  Mabyn  had  besought  her  sister  not  to  accept  this  symbol 
of  hopeless  captivity. 

"  Oh,  Wenna ! "  she  had  said,  "  if  you  take  a  ring  from 
him,  I  shall  look  on  you  as  carried  away  from  us  forever." 

"  Nonsense,  Mabyn,"  the  elder  sister  had  said.  "  The  ring 
is  of  no  importance  ;  it  is  the  word  you  have  spoken  that  is." 

"  Oh  no,  it  isn't,"  Mabyn  said,  earnestly.  "  As  long  as  you 
don't  wear  a  ring,  Wenna,  I  still  fancy  I  shall  get  you  back 
from  him  ;  and  you  may  say  what  you  like,  but  you  are  far  too 
good  for  him." 

"  Mabyn,  you  are  a  disobedient  child,"  the  elder  sister  said, 
stopping  the  argument  with  a  kiss,  and  not  caring  to  raise  a 
quarrel. 

Well,  when  Mr.  Roscorla  was  suddenly  confronted  by  this 
statement,  he  was  startled ;  but  he  inwardly  resolved  that,  as 
soon  as  he  and  Wenna  were  married,  he  would  bring  Miss 
Mabyn's  interference  in  their  affairs  to  an  end.  At  present 
he  merely  said,  mildly — 

"  I  was  not  aware  that  engaged  rings  were  no  longer  worn. 
However,  if  that  be  so,  it  is  no  reason  why  we  should  discon- 
tinue a  good  old  custom  ;  and  I  have  put  off  getting  one, 
Wenna  because  I  knew  I  had  to  go  to  London  soon.  I  find 
now  I  must  go  on  Monday  next ;  and  so  I  want  you  to  tell  me 
what  sort  of  stones  you  like  best  in  a  ring." 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know,"  Wenna  said,  humbly  and  duti- 
fully.    "  I  am  sure  to  like  whatever  you  choose." 

"'But  what  do  you  prefer  yourself?  "  he  again  said. 

Wenna  hesitated,  but  Miss  Mabyn  did  not.  She  was  pre- 
pared for  the  crisis.     She  had  foreseen  it. 


THE  RING  OF  EVIL  OMEN.  65 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Roscorla,"  she  said  (and  you  would  not  have  fan- 
cied there  was  any  guile  or  malice  in  that  young  and  pretty 
face,  with  its  tender  blue  eyes  and  its  proud  and  sweet  mouth), 
"  don't  you  know  that  Wenna  likes  emeralds  ?  " 

Mr.  Roscorla  was  very  near  telling  the  younger  sister  to 
mind  her  own  business  ;  but  he  was  afraid.  He  only  said,  in 
a  stiff  way,  to  his  betrothed — 

"  Do  you  like  emeralds  ?  " 

"  I  think  they  are  very  pretty,"  Wenna  replied,  meekly.  "  I 
am  sure  I  shall  like  any  ring  you  choose." 

"Oh,  very  well,"  said  he,  rather  discontented  that  she 
would  show  no  preference.     I  shall  get  you  an  emerald  ring." 

When  she  heard  this  decision,  the  heart  of  Mabyn  Rose- 
warne  was  filled  with  an  unholy  joy.  This  was  the  rhyme 
that  was  running  through  her  head  : 

"  Oh,  green's  forsaken, 
And  yellow's  forsworn, 
And  blue's  the  sweetest 
Color  that's  worn  !  " 

Wenna  was  saved  to  her  now.  How  could  any  two  people 
marry  who  had  engaged  themselves  with  an  emerald  ring? 
There  was  a  great  deal  of  what  might  be  called  natural  re- 
ligion in  this  young  lady,  to  distinguish  it  from  that  which 
she  had  been  taught  on  Sunday  forenoons  and  at  her  mother's 
knee  :  a  belief  in  occult  influences  ruling  the  earth,  unnara- 
able,  undefinable,  but  ever  present  and  ever  active.  If  fairly 
challenged,  she  might  have  scrupled  to  say  that  she  believed 
in  Brownies,  or  the  Small  People,  or  in  any  one  of  the 
thousand  superstitions  of  the  Cornish  peasantry.  But  she 
faithfully  observed  these  superstitions.  If  her  less  heedful 
sister  put  a  cut  loaf  upside  down  on  the  plate,  Mabyn  would 
instantly  right  it,  and  say  "  Oh,  Wenna  !  "  as  if  her  sister  had 
forgotten  that  that  simple  act  meant  that  some  ship  was  in 
sore  distress.  If  Wenna  laughed  at  any  of  these  fancies, 
Mabyn  said  nothing ;  but  all  the  same  she  was  convinced  in 
her  own  mind  that  things  happened  to  people  in  a  strange 
fashion,  and  in  accordance  with  omens  that  might  have  been 
remarked.  She  knew  that  if  Mr.  Roscorla  gave  Wenna  a 
ring  of  emeralds,  Mr.  Roscorla  would  never  marry  her. 

One  thing  puzzled  her,  however.  Which  of  the  two  was 
to  be  the  forsaken  ?  Was  it  Wenna  or  Mr.  Roscorla  who 
would  break  this  engagement  that  the  younger  sister  had  set 
her  heart  against  ?     Well,  she  would  not  have  been  sorry  if 


66  THREE  EEA  THERS. 

Mr.  Roscorla  were  the  guilty  party,  except  in  so  far  as  some 
humiliation  might  thereby  fall  on  Wenna.  But  the  more  she 
thought  of  the  matter,  the  more  she  was  convinced  that  Mr. 
Roscorla  was  aware  he  had  the  best  of  the  bargain,  and  was 
not  at  all  likely  to  seek  to  escape  from  it.  It  was  he  who 
must  be  forsaken  ;  and  she  had  no  pity  for  him.  What  right 
had  an  old  man  to  come  and  try  to  carry  off  her  sister — her 
sister  whose  lover  ought  to  be  "  young  and  beautiful,  like  a 
prince  ?  "  Mabyn  kept  repeating  the  lines  to  herself  all  the 
time  they  walked  homewards  ;  and  if  Wenna  had  asked  her 
a  question  just  then,  the  chances  are  she  would  have  an- 
swered— 

"  Oh,  green's  forsaken, 

And  yellow's  forsworn, 
And  blue's  the  sweetest 
Color  that's  worn  !  " 

But  Wenna  was  otherwise  engaged  during  this  homeward 
walk.  Mr.  Roscorla,  having  resolved  to  go  to  London, 
thought  he  might  as  well  have  that  little  matter  about  Harry 
Trelyon  cleared  up  before  he  went.  He  had  got  all  the 
good  out  of  it  possible  by  nursing  whatever  unquiet  sus- 
picions it  provoked,  and  trying  to  persuade  himself  that 
as  he  was  in  some  measure  jealous  he  must  in  some  meas- 
ure be  in  love.  But  he  had  not  the  courage  to  take  these 
suspicions  with  him  to  London  ;  they  were  not  pleasant 
travelling  companions. 

"  I  wonder,"  he  said,  in  rather  a  nervous  way,  "  whether  I 
shall  see  young  Trelyon  in  London." 

Wenna  was  not  at  all  disturbed  by  the  mention  of  the 
name.     She  only  said,  with  a  smile — 

"  It  is  a  big  place  to  seek  any  one  in." 

"  You  know  he  is  there  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes,"  she  answered  directly. 

"  It  is  odd  that  you  should  know,  for  he  has  not  told  any 
one  up  at  Trelyon  Hall ;  in  fact,  no  one  appears  to  have 
heard  anything  about  him  but  yourself." 

"  How  very  silly  of  him,"  Wenna  said,  "  to  be  so  thought- 
less !  Doesn't  his  mother  know  ?  Do  you  think  she  would 
like  to  know  ?  " 

"Well,"  said  he,  with  marked  coldness,  "doubtless  she 
would  be  surprised  at  his  having  communicated  with  you  in 
preference  to  any  one  else." 

Wenna's  soft  dark  eyes  were  turned  up  to  his  face  with  a 
sudden  look  of  astonishment.  He  had  never  spoken  to  her 
in  this  wav  before.     She  could  not  understand.     And  then 


THE  RING  OF  EVIL  OMEN.  67 

she  said,  very  quickly,  and  with  a  sudden  flush  of  color  to 
the  pale  face — 

"  Oh  !  but  this  letter  is  only  about  the  dog.  I  will  show 
it  to  you.     I  have  it  in  my  pocket." 

She  took  out  the  letter  and  handed  it  to  him  ;  and  he 
might  have  seen  that  her  hand  trembled.  She  was  very 
much  perturbed — she  scarcely  knew  why.  But  there  was 
something  in  his  manner  that  had  almost  frightened  her — 
something  distant  and  harsh  and  suspicious  ;  and  surely  she 
had  done  no  wrong  ? 

He  smoothed  out  the  crumpled  sheet  of  paper,  and  a  con- 
temptuous smile  passed  over  his  face. 

"  He  writes  with  more  care  to  you  than  to  other  people  ; 
but  I  can't  say  much  for  his  handwriting  at  the  best." 

Wenna  colored,  and  said  nothing;  but  Mabyn  remarked, 
rather  warmly — 

"  I  don't  think  a  man  need  try  to  write  like  a  dancing-mas- 
ter, if  he  means  what  he  says,  and  can  tell  you  that  frankly." 

Mr.  Roscorla  did  not  heed  this  remarkably  incoherent 
speech,  for  he  was  reading  the  letter,  which  ran  as  follows : 

"Nolan's  Hotel,  London,  July  30,  18 — . 
"  Dear  Miss  Rosewarne, — 

"  I  know  you  would  like  to  have  Rock,  and  he's  no  good 
at  all  as  a  retreaver,  and  I've  written  to  Luke  to  take  him 
down  to  you  at  the  Inn,  and  I  shall  be  very  pleased  if  you 
will  accept  him  as  a  present  from  me.  Either  Luke  or  your 
father  will  tell  you  how  to  feed  him  ;  and  I  am  sure  you  will 
be  kind  to  him,  and  not  chain  him  up,  and  give  him  plenty  of 
exercise.  I  hope  you  are  all  well  at  the  Inn,  and  that 
Mabyn's  pigeons  have  not  flowne  away.  Tell  her  not  to  for- 
get the  piece  of  looking-glass. 

"  Yours  faithfully, 

"  Harry  Trelyon. 

"P.S. — I  met  Joshua  Keam  quite  by  accident  yesterday. 
He  asked  for  you  most  kindly.  His  leg  has  been  ampitated 
at  last." 

Here  was  nothing  at  which  a  jealous  lover  might  grumble. 
Mr.  Roscorla  handed  back  the  letter  with  scarcely  a  word, 
leaving  Wenna  to  puzzle  ever  what  had  happened  to  make 
him  look  at  her  in  that  strange  way.  As  for  Miss  Mabyn, 
that  young  lady  would  say  nothing  to  hurt  her  sister's  feel- 
ings ;  but  she  said  many  a  bitter  thing  to  herself  about  the 


6S  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

character  of  a  gentleman  who  would  read  another  gentleman's 
letter,  particularly  when  the  former  was  an  elderly  gentleman 
and  the  latter  a  young  one,  and  most  of  all  when  the  young 
gentleman  had  been  writing  to  a  girl,  and  that  girl  her  sister 
Wenna.  "  But  green's  forsaken,"  Mabyn  said  to  herself,  as 
if  there  was  great  comfort  in  that  reflection — "  green's  for- 
saken, and  yellow's  forsworn  !  " 

And  so  Mr.  Roscorla  was  going  away  from  Eglosilyan  for 
a  time,  and  Wenna  would  be  left  alone. 

Certainly,  if  this  brief  separation  promised  to  afflict  her 
grievously,  it  had  not  that  effect  in  the  mean  time  ;  for  once 
she  had  gone  over  the  matter  in  her  mind,  and  sketched  out, 
as  was  her  wont,  all  that  she  ought  to  do,  she  quickly  recov- 
ered her  cheerfulness,  and  was  in  very  good  spirits  indeed 
when  the  small  party  reached  Eglosilyan.  And  here  was  a 
small  and  sunburnt  boy — Master  Pentecost  Luke,  in  fact — 
waiting  for  her  right  in  the  middle  of  the  road  in  front  of  the 
inn,  whom  she  caught  up,  and  kissed  and  scolded  all  at  once. 

"  Whatever  are  you  doing  down  here,  sir,  all  by  yourself  ?  " 

<J  I  have  turn  to  see  you,"  the  small  boy  said,  in  no  way 
frightened  or  abashed  by  her  rough  usage  of  him. 

"  And  so  you  want  Mr.  Trelyon  to  ride  over  you  again,  do 
you  ?  Haven't  I  told  you  never  to  come  here  without  some 
of  your  brothers  and  sisters  ?  Well,  say  '  How  do  you  do  ? ' 
to  the  gentleman.  Don't  you  know  Penny  Luke,  Mr.  Ros- 
corla ? " 

"  I  believe  I  have  that  honor,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  with  a 
smile,  but  not  at  all  pleased  to  be  kept  in  the  middle  of  the 
road  chattering  to  a  cottager's  child. 

Miss  Wenna  presently  showed  that  she  was  a  well-built 
and  active  young  woman  by  swinging  Master  Penny  up  and 
perching  him  on  her  shoulder,  in  which  fashion  she  carried 
him  into  the  inn. 

"  Penny  is  a  great  friend  of  mine,"  she  said  to  Mr.  Ros- 
corla, who  would  not  himself  have  attempted  that  feat  of  skill 
and  dexterity,  "  and  you  must  make  his  acquaintance.  He 
is  a  very  good  boy  on  the  whole,  but  sometimes  he  goes  near 
to  breaking  my  heart.  I  shall  have  to  give  him  up  and  take 
another  sweetheart,  if  he  doesn't  mind.  He  will  eat  with  his 
fingers,  and  he  will  run  out  and  get  among  horses'  feet ;  and 
as  for  the  way  he  conducts  himself  when  his  face  is  being 
washed,  and  he  is  being  made  like  a  gentleman,  I  never  saw 
the  like  of  it." 

Master  Penny  did  not  seem  much  ashamed  ;  he  was,  in 
fact,  too  proud  of  his  position.     They  marched  him  into  the 


THE  SNARES  OF  LONDON.  69 

inn,  where,  doubtless,  he  received  all  the  petting  and  other 
good  things  he  had  been  shrewdly  expecting. 

Mabyn  said  her  prayers  that  night  in  the  ordinary  and  for- 
mal fashion.  She  prayed  for  her  father  and  mother  and  for 
her  sister  Wenna,  as  she  had  been  taught ;  and  she  added  in 
the  Princess  of  Wales  on  her  own  account,  because  she  liked 
her  pretty  face.  She  also  prayed  that  she  herself  should  be 
made  humble  and  good,  desirous  of  serving  her  fellow-crea- 
tures, and  charitable  to  every  one.  All  this  was  done  in  due 
order. 

But  in  point  of  fact  her  heart  was  at  that  moment  far  from 
being  meek  and  charitable ;  it  was,  on  the  contrary,  filled 
with  bitterness  and  indignation.  And  the  real  cry  of  her 
soul,  unknown  to  herself,  went  out  to  all  the  vague,  imagina- 
tive powers  of  magic  and  witchcraft — to  the  mysterious  in- 
fluences of  the  stars  and  the  strange  controllers  of  chance ; 
and  it  was  to  these  that  she  looked  for  the  rescue  of  her 
sister  from  the  doom  that  threatened  her,  and  to  them  that 
she  appealed,  with  a  yearning  far  too  great  for  words  or  even 
for  tears.  When  she  was  but  a  child  playing  among  the 
rocks,  she  had  stumbled  on  the  dead  body  of  a  sailor  that 
had  been  washed  ashore  ;  and  she  had  run,  white  and  trem- 
bling, into  the  village  with  the  news.  Afterwards  she  was 
told  that  on  the  hand  of  the  corpse  a  ring  with  a  green  stone 
in  it  was  found  ;  an  then  she  heard  for  the  first  time  the 
rhyme  that  had  never  since  left  her  memory.  She  certainly 
did  not  wish  that  Mr.  Roscorla  should  die  ;  but  she  as  cer- 
tainly wished  that  her  sister  Wenna  should  be  saved  from 
becoming  his  wife  ;  and  she  reflected  with  a  fierce  satisfac- 
tion that  it  was  she  who  had  driven  him  to  promise  that 
Wenna's  engaged  ring  should  be  composed  of  those  fatal 
stones. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE   SNARES   OF    LONDON. 


If  Mr.  Harry  Trelyon  was  bent  on  going  to  the  devil,  to  use 
his  own  phrase,  he  went  a  quiet  way  about  it.  On  the  warm 
and  close  evening  of  a  summer  day  he  arrived  in  London. 
A  red  smoke  hung  about  the  western  sky,  over  the  tops  of 
the  houses  ;  the  thoroughfares  that  were  in  shadow  were 
filled  with  a  pale  blue  mist ;  the  air  was  still  and  stifling— 


70  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

very  different  from  that  which  came  in  at  night  from  the  sea 
to  the  gardens  and  cottages  of  Eglosilyan.  He  drove  down 
through  these  hot  and  crowded  streets  to  a  hotel  near 
Charing  Cross — an  old-fashioned  little  place  much  fre- 
quented by  west-country  people,  who  sometimes  took  rooms 
there,  and  brought  their  daughters  up  for  a  month  or  so  of 
the  season,  at  which  time  no  other  guests  could  obtain 
admission.  At  ordinary  times,  however,  the  place  was 
chiefly  tenanted  by  a  few  country  gentlemen  and  a  clergy- 
man or  two,  who  had  small  sitting-rooms,  in  which  they  dined 
with  their  families,  and  in  which  they  drank  a  glass  of  some- 
thing hot  before  going  to  bed  at  night  after  coming  home 
from  the  theatre. 

Harry  Trelyon  was  familiar  with  the  place  and  its  ways, 
and  with  the  traditions  of  his  father  and  grandfather,  who 
invariably  stopped  there  ;  and,  following  in  their  footsteps, 
he,  too,  obtained  a  private  sitting-room  as  well  as  a  bedroom, 
and  then  he  ordered  dinner.  It  was  not  much  in  the  way  of 
a  banquet  for  a  young  gentleman  who  was  determined  to 
go  to  the  devil.  It  consisted  of  a  beefsteak  and  a  pint  of 
claret ;  and  it  was  served  in  a  fairly-sized,  old-fashioned, 
dimly-lit  room,  the  furniture  of  which  was  of  that  very  sub- 
stantial sort  that  is  warranted  to  look  dingy  for  a  couple  of 
generations.  He  was  attended  by  a  very  old  and  shrunken 
waiter,  whose  white  whiskers  were  more  respectable  than  his 
shabby  clothes.  On  his  first  entrance  into  the  room  he  had 
looked  at  the  young  man  who,  in  a  rough  shooting-suit,  was 
stretched  out  at  full  length  in  an  easy-chair ;  and,  in  answer- 
ing a  question,  he  had  addressed  him  by  his  name. 

"  How  do  you  know  my  name  ? "  the  lad  said. 

"  Ah,  sir,  there's  no  mistaking  one  o'  your  family.  I  can 
remember  your  grandfather,  and  your  uncle,  and  your  father. 
Did  you  never  hear,  sir,  that  I  was  a  witness  for  your  father 
at  the  police-court  ?  " 

"  What  row  was  that  ?  "  the  young  gentleman  asked,  show- 
ing his  familiarity  with  the  fact  that  the  annals  of  the 
Trelyons  were  of  a  rather  stormy  character. 

"  Why,  sir,"  the  old  man  said,  warming  up  into  a  little 
excitement,  and  unconsciously  falling  into  something  like  the 
provincial  accent  of  his  youth,  "  I  believe  you  was  in  the 
hotel  at  the  time — yes,  as  well  as  I  can  recollect,  you  was  a 
little  chap  then,  and  had  gone  to  bed.  Well,  maybe  I'm 
wrong — 'tis  a  good  few  years  agone.  But,  anyhow,  your 
father  and  that  good  lady  your  mother,  they  were  a-coming 
home  from   a  theatre  :  and  there  was  two  or  three  young 


THE  SNARES  OF  LONDON.  71 

fellers  on  the  pavement — I  was  the  porter  then,  sir — and  I 
think  that  one  of  'em  called  out  to  the  other,  '  Well,  here's 
a  country  beauty,'  or  some  such  cheek.  'But,  anyhow,  your 
father,  sir,  he  knocks  him  aside,  and  takes  his  good  lady  into 
the  door  of  the  hotel,  and  then  they  was  for  follerin'  of  him, 
but  as  soon  as  she  was  inside,  then  he  turns,  and  there  was 
a  word  or  two,  and  one  of  'em  he  ups  with  a  stick,  and  says  I 
to  myself,  '  I  can't  stand  aby  and  see  three  or  four  set  on 
one  gentleman  ; '  but  lor !  sir — well,  you  wouldn't  believe  it 
— but  before  I  could  make  a  step,  there  was  two  of  'em  lyin' 
on  the  pavement — clean,  straight  down,  sir,  with  their  hats 
running  into  the  street — and  the  other  two  making  off  as  fast 
as  they  could  bolt  across  the  square.  Oh,  lor,  sir,  wa'n't  it 
beautiful  !  And  the  way  as  your  father  turned  and  says  he 
to  me,  with  a  laugh  like,  'Tomlins,'  says  he,  'you  can  give 
them  gentlemen  a  glass  of  brandy-and-water  when  they  ask 
for  it !  '  And  the  magistrate,  sir,  he  was  a  real  sensible 
gentleman,  and  he  give  it  hot  to  these  fellers,  for  they  began 
the  row,  sir,  and  no  mistake ;  but  to  see  the  way  they  went 
down — lor,  sir,  you  can't  believe  it !  " 

"  Oh,  can't  I,  though  ?  "  Master  Harry  said,  with  a  roar  of 
laughter.  "  Don't  you  make  any  mistake.  I  say,  what  did  you 
say  your  name  was  ?  " 

"  My  name,  sir,"  said  the  old  man,  suddenly  sinking  from 
the  epic  heights  which  had  lent  a  sort  of  inspiration  to  his 
face,  down  to  the  ordinary  chastened  and  respectful  bearing 
of  a  waiter — "  my  name,  sir,  in  the  hotel  is  Charles ;  but  your 
good  father,  sir,  he  knowed  my  name,  which  is  Tomlins,  sir." 

"  Well,  look  here,  Tomlins,"  the  boy  said,  "  you  go  and  ask 
the  landlady  to  give  you  a  holiday  this  evening,  and  come  in 
and  smoke  a  pipe  with  me." 

"  Oh,  lor,  sir,"  the  old  waiter  said,  aghast  at  the  very  notion, 
"  I  couldn't  do  that.  It  would  be  as  much  as  my  place  is 
worth." 

"  Oh,  never  mind  your  place — I'll  get  you  a  better  one," 
the  lad  said,  with  a  sort  of  royal  carelessness.  "  I'll  get  you 
a  place  down  in  Cornwall.  You  come  and  help  our  butler 
— he's  a  horrid  old  fool.  When  I  come  of  age,  I  mean  to 
build  a  house  there  for  myself.  No,  I  think  I  shall  have 
rooms  in  London — anyhow,  I'll  give  you  ^"ioo  a  year." 

The  old  man  shook  his  head. 

"  No,  sir,  thank  you  very  much,  sir.  I'm  too  old  to  begin 
again.  You  want  a  younger  man  than  me.  Beg  your  pardon, 
sir,  but  they're  ringing  for  me." 

"  Poor  old  beggar ! "  said  Trelyon  to  himself,  when  the 


72  THREE  FEATHERS. 

waiter  had  left  the  room  ;  "  I  wonder  if  he's  married,  and  if 
he's  got  any  kids  that  one  could  help.  And  so  he  was  a  wit- 
ness for  my  father.     Well,  he  sha'n't  surfer  for  that." 

Master  Harry  finished  his  steak  and  his  pint  of  claret ;  then 
he  lit  a  cigar,  got  into  a  hansom,  and  drove  up  to  a  street  in 
Seven  Dials,  where  he  at  length  discovered  a  certain  shop. 
The  shutters  were  on  the  windows,  and  a  stout  old  lady  was 
taking  in  from  the  door  the  last  of  the  rabbit-hutches  and 
cages  that  had  been  out  there  during  the  evening. 

"  You're  Mrs.  Finch,  ain't  you  ?  "  Trelyon  said,  making 
his  way  into  the  shop,  which  was  lighted  inside  by  a  solitary 
jet  of  gas. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  woman,  looking  up  at  the  tall  young 
man  in  the  rough  shooting-costume  and  brown  wideawake. 

"  Well,  my  name's  Trelyon,  and  I'm  come  to  blow  you  up. 
A  pretty  mess  you  made  of  that  flamingo  for  me — why,  a 
bishop  in  lawn  sleeves  couldn't  have  stuffed  it  worse.  Where 
did  you  ever  see  a  bird  with  a  neck  like  a  corkscrew  ? — and 
when  I  opened  it  to  put  it  straight,  then  I  found  out  all  your 
tricks,  Mrs.  Finch." 

"But  you  know,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Finch,  smiling  blandly,  "it 
ain't  our  line  of  business." 

"  Well,  I'd  advise  you  to  get  somebody  else  next  time  to 
stuff  for  you.  However,  I  bear  you  no  malice.  You  show 
me  what  you've  got  in  the  way  of  live  stock ;  and  if  you  take 
fifty  per  cent,  off  your  usual  prices,  I'll  let  the  corkscrew 
flamingo  go." 

A  minute  thereafter  he  was  being  conducted  down  some 
very  dark  steps  into  a  subterranean  cellar  by  this  stout  old 
woman,  who  carried  a  candle  in  front  of  him.  Their  entrance 
into  this  large,  dismal,  and  strangely  filled  place — at  the  far- 
ther end  of  which  was  a  grating  looking  up  to  the  street — 
awoke  a  profound  commotion  among  the  animals  around. 
Cocks  began  to  crow,  suddenly  awakened  birds  fluttered  up 
and  down  their  cages,  paroquets  and  cockatoos  opened  their 
sleepy  eyes  and  mechanically  repeated  "  Pretty  Polly  !  "  and 
"  Good-night !  good-night !  "  '  Even  the  rabbits  stared  solemn- 
ly from  behind  the  bars. 

"  What  have  you  got  there  ? "  said  Trelyon  to  his  guide, 
pointing  to  a  railway  milk-can  which  stood  in  the  corner,  near- 
ly filled  with  earth. 

"  A  mole,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Finch  ;  "  it  is  a  plaything  of  one 
of  my  boys ;  but  I  could  let  you  have  it,  sir,  if  you  have  any 
curiosity  that  way." 

"  Why,  bless  you,  I've  had  'em  by   the    dozen.     I  don't 


THE  SNARES  OF  LONDON.  73 

know  how  many  I've  let  escape  into  our  kitchen-garden,  all 
with  a  string  tied  to  their  leg.  Don't  they  go  down  a  cracker 
if  you  let  'em  loose  for  a  second  !  I  should  say  that  fellow 
was  rather  disgusted  when  he  came  to  the  tin,  don't  you  think  ? 
Got  any  cardinals,  Mrs.  Finch  ?  I  lost  every  one  o'  them 
you  sent  me." 

"  Dear,  dear  me  ! "  said  Mrs.  Finch,  showing  very  great 
concern. 

"Ay,  you  may  well  say  that.  Every  one  o'  them,  and 
about  forty  more  birds  besides,  before  I  found  out  what  it 
was — an  infernal  weasel  that  had  made  its  way  into  the 
rockwork  of  my  aviary,  and  there  he  lived  at  his  ease  for 
nearly  a  fortnight,  just  killing  whatever  he  chose,  and  the 
beggar  seemed  to  have  a  fancy  for  the  prettiest  birds.  I  had 
to  pull  the  whole  place  to  pieces  before  I  found  him  out — 
and  there  he  was,  grinning  and  snarling  in  a  corner.  By  Jove ! 
didn't  I  hit  him  a  whack  with  a  stick  I  had !  There  were 
no  more  birds  for  him  in  this  world." 

At  this  moment  Mrs.  Finch's  husband  and  two  of  her 
small  boys  came  down-stairs  ;  and  very  soon  the  conversation 
on  natural  history  became  general,  each  one  anxious  to  give 
his  experiences  of  the  wonderful  things  he  had  observed, 
even  if  his  travels  had  carried  him  no  farther  than  Battersea 
Reaches.  Master  Harry  forgot  that  he  had  left  a  hansom  at 
the  door.  There  was  scarcely  an  animal  in  this  dungeon 
that  he  did  not  examine  ;  and  when  he  suddenly  discovered 
that  it  was  considerably  past  eleven  o'clock,  he  found  him- 
self the  owner  of  about  as  much  property  as  would  have 
filled  two  cabs.  He  went  up-stairs,  dismissed  the  hansom, 
and  got  a  four-wheeler,  in  which  he  deposited  the  various 
cages,  fish-globes,  and  what  not,  that  he  had  bought ;  and 
then  he  drove  off  to  his  hotel,  getting  all  the  waiters  in  the 
place  to  assist  in  carrying  these  various  objects  tenderly  up- 
stairs. Thus  ended  his  first  evening  in  London,  the  chief 
result  of  which  was  that  his  sitting-room  had  assumed  the 
appearance  of  a  bird-catcher's  window. 

Next  forenoon  he  walked  up  into  Hyde  Park  to  have  a 
look  at  the  horses.  Among  the  riders  he  recognized  sever- 
al people  whom  he  knew — some  of  them,  indeed,  related  to 
him — but  he  was  careful  to  take  no  notice  of  them. 

"  Those  women,"  he  said  to  himself,  in  a  sensible  manner, 
"  don't  want  to  recognize  a  fellow  who  has  a  wideawake  on. 
They  would  do  it,  though,  if  you  presented  yourself ;  and 
they  would  ask  you  to  lunch  or  to  tea  in  the  afternoon.  Then 
you'd  find  yourself  among  a  lot  of  girls,  all  with  their  young 


74  THREE  FEATHERS. 

men  about  them,  and  the  young  men  would  wonder  how  the 
dickens  you  came  to  be  in  a  shooting-coat  in  London." 

So  he  pursued  his  way,  and  at  length  found  himself  in  the 
Zoological  Gardens.  He  sat  for  nearly  an  hour  staring  at 
the  lions  and  tigers,  imagining  all  sorts  of  incidents  as  he 
looked  at  their  sleepy  and  cruel  eyes,  and  wondering  what 
one  splendid  fellow  would  do  if  he  went  down  and  stroked 
his  nose.  He  had  the  satisfaction  also  of  seeing  the  animals 
fed ;  and  he  went  around  with  the  man,  and  had  an  interest- 
ing conversation  with  him. 

Then  he  went  and  had  some  luncheon  himself,  and  got  into 
talk  with  the  amiable  young  lady  who  waited  on  him,  who 
expressed  in  generous  terms,  with  a  few  superfluous  //'s,  the 
pleasure  which  she  derived  from  going  to  the  theatre. 

"  Oh,  do  you  like  it  ?  "  he  said,  carelessly ;  "  I  never  go. 
I  always  fall  asleep — country  habits,  you  know.  But  you 
get  somebody  to  go  with  you,  and  I'll  send  you  a  couple  of 
places  for  to-morrow  night,  if  you  like." 

"  I  think  I  could  get  some  one  to  take  me,"  said  the  young 
lady,  with  a  pretty  little  simper. 

u  Yes,  I  should  think  you  could,"  he  said,  bluntly.  "  What's 
your  name  ?  " 

He  wrote  it  down  on  one  of  his  own  cards,  and  went  his 
way. 

The  next  place  of  entertainment  he  visited  was  an  Amer- 
ican bowling-alley,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Covent  Garden,  a 
highly  respectable  place  to  which  gentlemen  resorted  for  the 
purpose  of  playing  a  refined  sort  of  skittles.  Master  Harry 
merely  wanted  to  practise,  and  also  to  stretch  his  arms  and 
legs.  He  had  just  begun,  however,  to  send  the  big  balls 
crashing  into  the  pins  at  the  farther  end  of  the  alley,  when 
the  only  visitor  in  the  place — a  sailor-looking  person  with  a 
red  face,  who  was  smoking  a  very  elaborate  meerschaum — 
offered  to  play  a  game  with  him. 

"All  right,"  said  Trelyon. 

"  For  a  couple  of  bobs  ?  "  says  the  stranger. 

"  Do  you  mean  two  shillings  ? "  asks  the  young  man,  calm- 
ly looking  down  upon  the  person  with  the  red  face  ;  for,  of 
course,  Harry  Trelyon  never  used  slang. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  other,  with  much  indifference,  as  he  se- 
lected one  of  the  balls. 

They  played  a  game,  and  Trelyon  won  easily.  They  played 
another,  and  again  he  won.  They  played  a  third,  and  still 
he  won. 

"  Oh,  let's  play  for  a  sovereign,"  said  the  straneer. 


THE  SNARES  OF  LONDON.  75 

"  No,"  said  the  young  man ;  "I'm  going." 

Well,  this  did  not  at  all  seem  to  suit  his  opponent,  who 
became  rather  demonstrative  in  manner.  He  did  not  like 
gentlemen  coming  in  to  win  money,  without  giving  a  fellow  a 
chance  of  winning  it  back.  At  this  Trelyon  turned  sud- 
denly— he  had  not  yet  put  on  his  coat — and  said — 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  I  won't  play  any  more,  but  I'll 
knock  the  head  off  you  in  two  minutes,  if  that'll  suit  vou 
better." 

The  gentleman  with  the  red  face  paused  for  a  minute. 
He  was  evidently  in  a  nasty  temper.  He  looked  at  the  build 
of  the  young  man  ;  he  also  observed  that  one  of  the  assistants 
was  drawing  near;  and  still  he  said  nothing.  Whereupon 
Master  Harry  quietly  put  on  his  coat,  lit  a  cigar,  gave  a 
friendly  nod  to  his  late  opponent,  and  walked  out. 

In  this  wise  he  lounged  about  London  for  a  day  or  two, 
looking  in  at  Tattersall's,  examining  new  breech-loaders  in 
shops  in  St.  James's  Street,  purchasing  ingenuities  in  fishing- 
tackle,  and  very  frequently  feeding  the  ducks  in  the  Serpen- 
tine with  bread  bought  of  the  boys  standing  around.  It  was 
not  a  very  lively  sort  of  existence,  he  found.  Colonel  Ran- 
some  had  left  for  Scotland  on  the  very  day  before  his  arrival 
in  London,  so  that  peaceable  and  orderly  means  of  getting 
that  dowry  for  Wenna  Rosewarne  were  not  at  hand;  and 
Master  Harry,  though  he  was  enough  of  a  devil-may-care, 
had  no  intention  of  going  to  the  Jews  for  the  money  until  he 
was  driven  to  it.  Colonel  Ransome,  moreover,  had  left  his 
constituents  unrepresented  in  the  House  during  the  last  few 
clays  of  the  session,  and  had  quietly  gone  off  to  Scotland  for 
the  1 2th,  so  that  it  was  impossible  to  say  when  he  might  return. 
Meanwhile  young  Trelyon  made  the  acquaintance  of  what- 
ever birds,  beasts,  and  fishes  he  could  find  in  London,  until 
he  got  a  little  tired. 

All  of  a  sudden  it  struck  him  one  evening,  as  a  happy  re- 
lief, that  he  would  sit  down  and  write  to  Wenna  Rosewarne. 
He  ordered  in  pens,  ink,  and  paper  with  much  solemnity; 
and  then  he  said  to  the  old  waiter,  "  Tomlins,  how  do  you 
spell  '  retriever '  ?  " 

"I  ain't  quite  sure,  sir,"  Tomlins  said. 

Whereupon  Master  Harry  had  to  begin  and  compose  that 
letter  which  we  have  already  read,  but  which  cost  him  an 
amount  of  labor  not  visible  in  the  lines  as  they  stand.  He 
threw  away  a  dozen  sheets  of  paper  before  he  even  mastered 
a  beginning;  and  it  was  certainly  an  hour  and  a  half  before 
he  had  produced  a  copy  which  more  or  less  satisfied  him. 


76  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

Mr  Roscorla  noticed  at  once  the  pains  he  had  taken  with  the 
writing. 

Then  in  due  course  came  the  answer;  and  Master  Hairy 
paused  with  much  satisfaction  to  look  at  the  pretty  hand- 
writing on  the  envelope — he  did  not  often  get  letters  from 
young  ladies.  The  contents,  however,  did  not  please  him 
quite  so  much.     They  were  these  : 

"  Eglosilyan,  August  3,  18 — 
"  Dear  Mr.  Trelyon, — 

"  Thank  you  very  much  for  giving  me  your  beautiful  dog. 
I  shall  take  great  care  of  him,  and  if  you  want  him  for  the 
shooting  you  can  have  him  at  any  time.  But  I  am  surprised 
you  should  write  to  me  when  I  hear  that  you  have  not  written 
to  your  own  relatives,  and  that  they  do  not  even  know  where 
you  are.  I  cannot  understand  how  you  should  be  so  care- 
less of  the  feelings  of  others.  I  am  sure  it  is  thoughtlessness 
rather  than  selfishness  on  your  part ;  but  I  hope  you  will  write 
to  them  at  once.  Mr.  Barnes  has  just  called,  and  I  have 
given  him  your  address.  I  am,  yours  sincerely, 

"  Wenna  Rosewarne." 

Harry  Trelyon  was  at  once  vexed  and  pleased  by  this  let- 
ter ;  probably  more  vexed  than  pleased,  for  he  threw  it  im- 
patiently on  the  table,  and  said  to  himself,  "She's  always 
reading  lectures  to  people,  and  always  making  a  fuss  of 
nothing.  She  was  meant  for  a  Puritan — she  should  have 
gone  out  in  the  Mayfly  to  America." 

Mayfly  for  Mayflower  was  perhaps  a  natural  mistake  for  a 
trout-fisher  to  make ;  but  Master  Harry  was  unaware  of  it. 
He  passed  on  to  more  gloomy  fancies.  What  was  this  parson 
about  that  he  should  come  inquiring  for  his  address  of  Wenna 
Rosewarne  ?     How  had  he  found  out  that  she  knew  it  ? 

"  Come,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  this  won't  do.  I  must  go 
down  to  Cornwall.  And,  it  there  are  any  spies  pushing  their 
noses  into  my  affairs,  let  'em  look  out  for  a  tweak,  that's  all !  " 


CHAPTER   XL 

THE    TWO     PICTURES. 


"  Oh,  Mabyn,"  Wenna  called  out  in  despair,  "you  will  have 
all  my  hair  down.     Have  you  gone  auite  mad  ?  " 


THE  TWO  PICTURES.  77 

"  Yes,  quite,"  the  younger  sister  said,  with  a  wild  enjoy- 
ment in  her  eyes.  "  Oh,  Wenna,  he's  gone,  he's  gone,  and 
he's  gone  to  get  you  an  emerald  ring  !  Don't  you  know,,  you 
poor  silly  thing,  that  green's  forsaken,  and  yellow's  for- 
sworn ? " 

"  Well,  Mabyn,"  the  elder  sister  said,  laughing  in  spite  of 
herself,  "  you  are  the  wickedest  girl  I  ever  heard  of,  and  I 
wonder  I  am  not  angry  with  you. " 

At  this  moment  they  were  returning  to  Eglosilyan  along  the 
Launceston  highway ;  and  far  away  behind  them,  on  the  road 
that  crosses  the  bleak  and  lofty  moors,  the  dog-cart  was  faintly 
visible  which  was  taking  Mr.  Roscorla  on  his  first  stage  to- 
wards London.  He  had  driven  the  two  sisters  out  for  about 
a  mile,  and  now  they  were  going  back ;  and  Mabyn  was  al- 
most beside  herself  with  delight  that  he  was  gone,  and  that 
her  sister  had  shown  no  great  grief  at  his  going.  Their  part- 
ing, indeed,  had  been  of  a  most  unromantic  kind,  much  to  the 
relief  of  both.  Mr.  Roscorla  was  rather  late  ;  and  Wenna 
devoted  her  last  words  to  impressing  on  him  that  he  must 
have  something  to  eat  in  Launceston  before  going  down  to 
the  Plymouth  train.  Then  she  bade  him  make  haste,  and 
said  good-bye  with  a  kindly  smile  on  her  face,  and  away  he 
went. 

"  Mabyn,"  she  said,  in  a  mysterious  voice  which  stopped 
her  sister's  pulling  her  about, "  do  you  think — now,  do  you 
really  think — Mr.  Pavy  would  lend  us  his  boat  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Wenna,"  the  other  one  cried,  "  do  let  us  have  the  boat 
out !  Do  you  know  that  the  whole  air  seems  clear  and  light 
since  Mr.  Roscorla  has  gone  ?  I  should  like  to  thank  every- 
body in  the  world  for  being  so  kind  as  to  take  him  away. 
Wenna,  I'll  run  you  to  the  gate  of  Basset  Cottage  for  half  a 


crown  1 


!  " 


You  !  "  said  the  elder  sister,  with  great  contempt.  "  I'll 
run  you  to  the  mill  for  a  hundred  thousand  pounds." 

"  No,  Wenna— Basset  Cottage,  if  you  like,"  said  Mabyn, 
sturdily ;  and  with  that  both  the  girls  set  out,  with  their  heads 
down,  in  a  business-like  fashion  that  showed  there  was  very 
little  the  matter  with  their  lungs. 

"  Oh,  Mabyn ! "  said  Wenna,  suddenly ;  and  then  both  of 
them  found  that  they  had  very  nearly  run  into  the  arms  of  a 
clergyman — an  elderly,  white-haired,  amiable-looking  gentle- 
man, who  was  rather  slowly  toiling  up  the  hill.  Mabyn  looked 
frightened,  and  then  laughed  ;  but  Wenna,  with  her  cheeks 
very  red,  went  forward  and  shook  hands  with  him. 

"  Well,  girls,"  he  said,  "  you  needn't  stop  running  for  me— 


7 g  THREE  FEATHERS. 

a  capital  exercise,  a  capital  exercise,  that  young  ladies  in 
towns  don't  have  much  of.  And  as  for  you,  Wenna,  you've 
plenty  of  work  of  a  sedentary  nature,  you  know — nothing  bet- 
ter than  a  good  race,  nothing  better.  " 

"  And  how  is  your  little  granddaughter  this  morning,  Mr. 
Trewhella  ?  "  said  Wenna,  gently,  with  her  cheeks  still  flush- 
ing with  the  running. 

"  Ah  !  well,  poor  child,  she  is  much  about  the  same  ;  but 
ihe  pincushion  is  nearly  finished  now,  and  your  name  is  on  it 
in  silver  beads,  and  you  are  to  come  and  have  tea  with  her  as 
soon  as  you  can,  that  she  may  give  it  to  you.  Dear,  dear ! 
she  was  asking  her  mother  yesterday  whether  the  beads  would 
carry  all  her  love  to  you,  for  she  did  not  think  it  possible  her- 
self. Well,  good-bye,  girls  ;  don't  you  be  ashamed  of  having 
a  race  together."  With  which  the  kindly-faced  clergyman  re- 
sumed his  task  of  ascending  the  hill,  and  the  two  girls,  aban- 
doning their  racing,  walked  quietly  down  to  the  harbor,  to  see 
if  they  could  persuade  the  silent  and  surly  Mr.  Pavy  to  let 
them  have  his  boat. 

Meanwhile  Mr.  Roscorla  drove  along  the  silent  highway 
in  George  Rosewarne's  dog-cart,  and  in  due  time  he  reached 
Launceston,  and  took  the  train  for  Plymouth.  He  stayed  in 
Plymouth  that  night,  having  some  business  to  do  there  ;  and 
next  morning  he  found  himself  in  the  Flying  Dutchman,  tear- 
ing along  the  iron  rails  towards  London. 

Now  it  was  a  fixed  habit  of  Mr  Roscorla  to  try  to  get  as 
near  as  possible  to  a  clear  and  definite  understanding  of  his 
relations  with  the  people  and  things  around  him.  He  did 
not  wish  to  have  anything  left  vague  and  nebulous,  even  as 
regarded  a  mere  sentiment ;  and  as  this  was  the  first  time  he 
had  got  clear  away  from  Eglosilyan  and  the  life  there  since 
the  beginning  of  his  engagement,  he  calmly  set  about  defining 
the  position  in  which  he  stood  with  regard  to  Wenna  Rose- 
warne. 

The  chief  matter  for  discontent  that  he  had  was  the  prob- 
able wonder  of  the  world  over  the  fact  that  he  meant  to 
marry  an  inn-keeper's  daughter.  All  the  world  could  not 
know  the  sufficient  reasons  he  had  advanced  to  himself  for 
that  step ;  nor  could  they  know  of  the  very  gradual  way  in 
which  he  had  approached  it.  Every  one  would  consider  it 
as  an  abrupt  and  ludicrous  act  of  folly;  his  very  kindest 
friends  would  call  it  an  odd  freak  of  romance.  Now  Mr. 
Roscorla  felt  that  at  his  time  of  life  to  be  accused  of  romance 
was  to  be  accused  of  silliness ;  and  he  resolved  that,  whenever 
he  had  a  chance,  he  would  let  people  know  that  his  choice 


THE  TWO  PICTURES.  79 

of  Wenna  Rosewarne  was  dictated  by  the  most  simple  and 
commonplace  arguments  of  prudence,  such  as  would  govern 
the  conduct  of  any  sane  man. 

He  resolved,  too,  that  he  would  clearly  impress  on  Harry 
Trelyon — whom  he  expected  to  see  at  Nolan's— that  this 
project  of  marriage  with  Miss  Rosewarne  was  precisely  what 
a  man  of  the  world  placed  in  his  position  would  entertain. 
He  did  not  wholly  like  Master  Harry.  There  was  an  ostenta- 
tious air  of  youth  about  the  young  man.  There  was  a  blunt- 
ness  in  his  speech,  too,  that  transgressed  the  limits  of  cour- 
tesy. Nor  did  he  quite  admire  the  off-handed  fashion  in 
which  Harry  Trelyon  talked  to  the  Rosewarne's,  and  more 
especially  to  the  girls ;  he  wished  Miss  Wenna  Rosewarne, 
at  least,  to  be  treated  with  a  little  more  formality  and  re- 
spect. At  the  same  time  he  would  endeavor  to  remain  good 
friends  with  this  ill-mannered  boy,  for  reasons  to  be  made 
apparent. 

When  he  arrived  at  Nolan's  Hotel  he  took  a  bed-room 
there,  and  then  sent  in  a  card  to  Harry  Trelyon.  He  found 
that  young  gentleman  up  on  a  chair,  trying  to  catch  a  Vir- 
ginian nightingale  that  had  escaped  from  one  of  the  cages ; 
and  he  nearly  stumbled  over  a  tame  hedgehog  that  ran  patter- 
ing over  the  carpet,  because  his  attention  was  drawn  to  a 
couple  of  very  long-eared  rabbits  sitting  in  an  easy-chair. 
Master  Harry  paid  no  attention  to  him  until  the  bird  was 
caught;  then  he  came  down,  shook  hands  with  him  care- 
lessly, and  said — 

"  How  odd  you  should  stumble  in  here  !  Or  did  Wenna 
Rosewarne  tell  you  I  was  at  Nolan's  ? " 

"Yes,  Miss  Rosewarne  did,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla.  "You 
have  quite  a  menagerie  here.  Do  you  dine  here  or  down- 
stairs ? " 

"  Oh  !  here,  of  course." 

"  I  thought  you  might  come  and  dine  with  me  this  evening 
at  my  club.  Five  minutes'  walk  from  here,  you  know.  Will 
you ! " 

"  Yes,  I  will,  if  you  don't  mind  this  elegant  costume." 

Mr.  Roscorla  was  precisely  the  person  to  mind  the  dress  of 
a  man  whom  he  was  taking  into  his  club ;  but  he  was  very 
well  aware  that,  whatever  dress  young  Trelyon  wore,  no  one 
could  mistake  him  for  anything  else  than  a  gentleman.  He 
was  not  at  all  averse  to  be  seen  with  Master  Harry  in  this 
rough  costume ;  he  merelv  suggested,  with  a  smile,  that  a 
few  feathers  ana  Dits  of  thread  mighf  be  removed ;  and  then, 


So  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

in  the  quiet  summer  evening,  they  went  outside  and  walked 
westward. 

"  Now  this  is  the  time,"  Mr.  Roscorla  said,  "  when  Pall 
Mall  looks  interesting  to  me.  There  is  a  sort  of  quiet  and 
strong  excitement  about  it.  All  that  smoke  there  over  the 
club  chimneys  tells  of  the  cooking  going  forward ;  and  you 
will  find  old  boys  having  a  sly  look  in  at  the  dining-room  to 
see  that  their  tables  are  all  right;  and  then  friends  come  in, 
and  smooth  out  their  white  ties,  and  have  a  drop  of  sherry 
and  Angostura  bitters  while  they  wait.  All  this  district  is  full 
of  a  silent  satisfaction  and  hope  just  now.  But  I  can't  get 
you  a  good  dinner,  Trelyon  ;  you'll  have  to  take  your  chance, 
you  know.  I  have  got  out  of  the  ways  of  the  club  now ;  I 
don't  know  what  they  can  do." 

"  Well,  I'm  not  nasty  partickler,"  Trelyon  said ;  which  was 
true.     "  But  what  has  brought  you  up  to  London  ?  " 

"  Well,  I'll  tell  you.  It's  rather  an  awkward  business  one 
way.  I  have  got  a  share  in  some  sugar  and  coffee  planta- 
tions in  Jamaica — I  think  you  know  that — and  you  are  aware 
that  the  emancipation  of  the  niggers  simply  cut  the  throat  of 
the  estates  there.  The  beggars  won't  work ;  and  lots  of  the 
plantations  have  been  going  down  and  down,  or  rather  back 
and  back  into  the  original  wilderness.  Well,  my  partners 
here  see  no  way  out  of  it  but  one — to  import  labor,  have  the 
plantations  thoroughly  overhauled  and  set  in  good  working 
order.  But  that  wants  money.  They  have  got  money — I 
haven't ;  and  so,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  am  at  my  wit's  end 
as  how  to  raise  a  few  thousands  to  join  them  in  the  under- 
taking." 

This  piece  of  intelligence  rather  startled  Harry  Trelyon. 
He  instantly  recalled  the  project  which  had  brought  himself 
to  London,  and  asked  himself  whether  he  was  prepared  to 
give  a  sum  of  ^5000  to  Wenna  Rosewarne,  merely  that  it 
should  be  transferred  by  her  to  her  husband,  who  would  forth- 
with embark  in  speculation  with  it.  Well,  he  was  not  pre- 
pared to  do  that  off-hand. 

They  went  into  the  club,  which  was  in  St.  James's  Street, 
and  Mr.  Roscorla  ordered  a  quiet  little  dinner,  the  menu  of 
which  was  constructed  with  a  neatness  and  skill  altogether 
thrown  away  on  his  guest.  In  due  time  Master  Harry  sat 
down  at  the  small  table,  and  accepted  with  much  indifference 
the  delicacies  which  his  companion  had  prepared  for  him. 
But  all  the  same  he  enjoyed  his  dinner — particularly  a  draught 
of  ale  he  had  with  his  cheese  ;  after  which  the  two  strangers 
went  up  to  a  quiet  corner  in  the  smoking-room,  lay  down  in  a 


THE  TWO  PICTURES.  81 

couple  of  big  easy-chairs,  and  lit  their  cigars.  During  dinner 
their  talk  had  mostly  been  about  shooting,  varied  with  anec- 
dotes which  Mr.  Roscorla  told  of  men  about  town. 

Now,  however,  Mr.  Roscorla  became  more  communicative 
about  his  own  affairs ;  and  it  seemed  to  Trelyon  that  these 
were  rather  in  a  bad  way.  And  it  also  occurred  to  him  that 
there  was  perhaps  a  little  meanness  in  his  readiness  to  give 
^5000  direct  to  Wenna  Rosewarne,  and  in  his  disinclination 
to  lend  the  same  sum  to  her  future  husband,  whose  interests, 
of  course,  would  be  hers. 

"  Look  here,  Roscorla,"  he  said.  "  Honor  bright,  do  you 
think  you  can  make  anything  out  of  this  scheme  ;  or  is  the 
place  like  one  of  those  beastly  old  mines  in  which  you  throw 
good  money  after  bad  ?  " 

Roscorla  answered,  honestly  enough — but  with  perhaps  a 
trifle  unnecessary  emphasis,  when  he  saw  that  the  young  man 
was  inclined  to  accept  the  hint — that  he  believed  the  project 
to  be  a  sound  one ;  that  his  partners  were  putting  far  more 
into  it  than  he  would  ;  that  the  merchants  who  were  his  agents 
in  London  knew  the  property  and  approved  of  the  scheme ; 
and  that,  if  he  could  raise  the  money,  he  would  himself  go  out 
in  a  few  months'  time,  to  see  the  thing  properly  started. 

He  did  not  press  the  matter  further  than  that  for  the  pres- 
ent ;  and  so  their  talk  drifted  away  into  other  channels,  until 
it  found  its  way  back  to  Eglosilyan,  to  the  Rosewarnes,  and  to 
Wenna.  That  is  to  say,  Mr.  Roscorla  spoke  of  Wenna; 
Trelyon  was  generally  silent  on  that  one  point. 

"  You  must  not  imagine,"  Roscorla  said,  with  a  smile,  "  that 
I  took  this  step  without  much  deliberation." 

"  So  did  she,  I  suppose,"  Trelyon  said,  rather  coldly. 

"  Well,  yes.  Doubtless.  But  I  dare  say  many  people  will 
think  it  rather  strange  that  I  should  marry  an  innkeeper's 
daughter — they  will  think  I  have  been  struck  with  a  sudden 
fit  of  idiotic  romance." 

"  Oh  no,  I  don't  think  so,"  the  lad  said,  with  nothing  visible 
in  his  face  to  tell  whether  he  were  guilty  of  a  mere  blunder 
or  of  intentional  impertinence.  "  Many  elderly  gentlemen 
marry  their  housekeepers,  and  in  most  cases  wisely,  as  far  as 
I  have  seen." 

"  Oh  !  but  that  is  another  thing,"  Roscorla  said,  with  his 
face  flushing  slightly,  and  inclined  to  be  ill-tempered.  "  There 
is  a  great  difference :  I  am  not  old  enough  to  want  a  nurse 
yet.  I  have  chosen  Miss  Rosewarne  because  she  is  possessed 
of  certain  qualities  calculated  to  make  her  an  agreeable  com- 
panion for  a  man  like  myself.     I  have  done  it  quite  deliber- 


82  THREE  FEATHERS. 

ately  and  with  my  eyes  open.  I  am  not  blinded  by  the  vanity 
that  makes  a  boy  insist  on  having  a  particular  girl  become  his 
wife  because  she  has  a  pretty  face  and  he  wants  to  show  her 
to  his  friends." 

"  And  yet  there  is  not  much  the  matter  with  Wenna  Rose- 
warne's  face,"  said  Trelyon,  with  the  least  suggestion  of  sar- 
casm. 

"  Oh  !  as  for  that,"  Roscorla  said,  "that  does  not  concern 
a  man  who  looks  at  life  from  my  point  of  view.  Certainly, 
there  are  plainer  faces  than  Miss  Rosewarne's.  She  has 
good  eyes  and  teeth ;  and,  besides  that,  she  has  a  good  figure, 
you  know." 

Both  these  men,  as  they  lay  idling  in  the  smoking-room, 
were  now  thinking  of  Wenna  Rosewarne,  and  indolently  and 
inadvertently  forming  some  picture  of  her  in  their  minds.  Of 
the  two,  that  of  Mr.  Roscorla  was  by  far  the  more  accurate. 
He  could  have  described  every  feature  of  her  face  and  every 
article  of  her  dress,  as  she  appeared  to  him  on  bidding  him 
good-bye  the  day  before  on  the  Launceston  highway.  The 
dress  was  a  soft  light-brown,  touched  here  and  there  with  deep 
and  rich  cherry  color.  Her  face  was  turned  sideways  to  him, 
and  looking  up ;  the  lips  partly  open  with  a  friendly  smile, 
and  showing  beautiful  teeth ;  the  earnest  dark  eyes  filled  with 
a  kindly  regard  ;  the  eyebrows  high,  so  that  they  gave  a  timid 
and  wondering  look  to  the  face ;  the  forehead  low  and  sweet, 
with  some  loose  brown  hair  about  it  that  the  wind  stirred. 
He  knew  every  feature  of  that  face  and  every  varying  look  of 
the  eyes,  whether  they  were  pleased  and  grateful,  or  sad  and 
distant,  or  overbrimming  with  a  humorous  and  malicious  fun. 
He  knew  the  shape  of  her  hands,  the  graceful  poise  of  her 
waist  and  neck,  the  very  way  she  put  down  her  foot  in  walking. 
He  was  thoroughly  well  aware  of  the  appearance  which  the 
girl  he  meant  to  marry  presented  to  the  unbiassed  eyes  of 
the  world. 

Harry  Trelyon's  mental  picture  of  her  was  far  more  vague 
and  unsatisfactory.  Driven  into  a  corner,  he  would  have  ad-' 
mitted  to  you  that  Wenna  Rosewarne  was  not  very  good-look- 
ing ;  but  that  would  not  have  affected  his  fixed  and  private  belief 
that  he  knew  no  woman  who  had  so  beautiful  and  tender  a 
face.  For  somehow,  when  he  thought  of  her,  he  seemed  to 
see  her,  as  he  had  often  seen  her,  go  by  him  on  a  summer 
morning  on  her  way  to  church ;  and  as  the  sweet,  small  Puri- 
tan would  turn  to  him,  and  say  in  her  gentle  way,  "  Good- 
iYiorning,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  he  would  feel  vexed  and  ashamed 
that  he  had  been  found  with  a  gun  in  his  hand,  and  be  izh 


THE  CHAIN  TIGHTENS.  83 

clined  to  heave  it  into  the  nearest  ditch.  Then  she  would 
go  on  her  way,  along  between  the  green  hedges,  in  the  sum- 
mer light;  and  the  look  of  her  face  that  remained  in  his 
memory  was  as  the  look  of  an  angel,  calm  and  sweet,  and 
never  to  be  forgotten. 

"Of  course,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla  in  this  smoking-room,  "if 
I  go  to  Jamaica,  I  must  get  married  before  I  start." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE   CHAIN    TIGHTENS. 

Once,  and  once  only,  Wenna  broke  down.  She  had  gone 
out  into  the  night  all  by  herself,  with  some  vague  notion  that 
the  cold,  dank  sea-air — sweet  with  the  scent  of  the  roses  in  the 
cottage  gardens — would  be  gratefully  cool  as  it  came  around 
her  face.  The  day  had  been  stormy,  and  the  sea  was  high — 
she  could  hear  the  waves  dashing  in  on  the  rocks  at  the 
mouth  of  the  harbor — but  the  heavens  were  clear,  and  over 
the  dark  earth  the  great  vault  of  stars  throbbed  and  burned 
in  silence.  She  was  alone,  for  Mr.  Roscorla  had  not  returned 
from  London,  and  Mabyn  had  not  noticed  her  slipping  out. 
And  here,  in  the  cool,  sweet  darkness,  the  waves  seemed  to 
call  on  her  with  a  low  and  melancholy  voice.  A  great  long- 
ing and  trouble  came  somehow  into  her  heart,  and  drove  her 
to  wander  onwards  as  if  she  should  find  rest  in  the  mere  lone- 
liness of  the  night,  until  at  length  there  was  nothing  around 
her  but  the  dark  land  and  the  sea  and  the  white  stars. 

She  could  not  tell  what  wild  and  sad  feeling  this  was  that 
had  taken  possession  of  her ;  but  she  knew  that  she  had  sud- 
denly fallen  away  from  the  calm  content  of  the  wife  that  was 
to  be — with  all  the  pleasant  sensation  of  gratitude  towards 
him  who  had  honored  her,  and  the  no  less  pleasant  conscious- 
ness that  her  importance  in  the  world,  and  her  power  of  help- 
ing the  people  around  her,  were  indefinitely  increased.  She 
had  become  again  the  plain  Jim  Crow  of  former  days,  longing 
to  be  able  to  do  some  indefinitely  noble  and  unselfish  thing — 
ready,  indeed,  to  lay  her  life  down  so  that  she  might  earn  some 
measure  of  kindly  regard  by  the  sacrifice.  And  once  more 
she  reflected  that  she  had  no  great  influence  in  the  world,  that 
she  was  of  no  account  to  anybody,  that  she  was  plain  and 
small  and  insignificant ;  and  the  great  desire  in  her  heart  of 
being  of  distinct  and  beautiful  service  to  the  many  people 


84  THREE  FEATHERS. 

whom  she  loved  seemed  to  break  itself  against  these  narrow 
bars,  until  the  cry  of  the  sea  around  her  was  a  cry  of  pain, 
and  the  stars  looked  coldly  down  on  her,  and  even  God  him- 
self seemed  far  away  and  indifferent. 

"  If  I  could  only  tell  some  one — if  I  could  only  tell  some 
one  !  "  she  was  saying  to  herself  wildly,  as  she  walked  rapidly 
onwards,  not  seeing  very  well  where  she  was  going,  for  her 
eyes  were  full  of  tears.  "  But  if  I  tell  Mabyn  she  will  say  that 
I  fear  this  marriage,  and  go  straight  to  Mr.  Roscorla ;  and  if 
I  tell  my  mother  she  will  think  me  ungrateful  to  him,  and  to 
every  one  around  me.  And  how  can  I  explain  to  them  what 
I  cannot  explain  to  myself  ?  And  if  I  cannot  explain  it  to  my- 
self, is  it  not  mere  folly  to  yield  to  such  a  feeling  ? " 

The  question  was  easily  asked  and  easily  answered;  and 
with  much  show  of  bravery  she  proceeded  to  ask  herself  other 
questions,  less  easily  answered.  She  began  to  reproach  her- 
self with  ingratitude,  with  vanity,  with  a  thousand  errors  and 
evil  qualities  :  she  would  teach  herself  humility ;  she  would 
endeavor  to  be  contented  and  satisfied  in  the  position  in  which 
she  found  herself ;  she  would  reflect  on  the  thousands  of  miser- 
able people  who  had  real  reason  to  complain,  and  yet  bore 
their  sufferings  with  fortitude ;  and  she  would  now — straight- 
way and  at  once — return  to  her  room,  get  out  the  first  letter 
Mr.  Roscorla  had  written  to  her,  and  convince  herself  once 
more  that  she  ought  to  be  happy. 

The  climax  was  a  strange  one.  She  had  been  persuading 
herself  that  there  was  no  real  cause  for  this  sudden  fit  of 
doubt  and  wretchedness.  She  had  been  anticipating  her  sis- 
ter's probable  explanation,  and  dismissing  it.  And  yet,  as  she 
turned  and  walked  back  along  the  narrow  path  leading  down 
to  the  bridge,  she  comforted  herself  with  the  notion  that  Mr. 
Roscorla's  letter  would  reassure  her  and  banish  these  imaginary 
sorrows.  She  had  frequently  read  over  that  letter,  and  she 
knew  that  its  ingenious  and  lucid  arguments  were  simply 
incontrovertible. 

"Oh,  Wenna  !"  Mabyn  cried,  "what  has  been  troubling 
you  ?  Do  you  know  that  your  face  is  quite  white  ?  Have 
you  been  out  all  by  yourself  ?  " 

Wenna,  on  getting  home,  had  gone  into  the  little  snuggery 
which  was  once  a  bar,  and  which  was  now  George  Rose- 
warne's  smoking-room.  Mabyn  and  her  father  had  been 
playing  chess — the  board  and  pieces  were  still  on  the  table. 
Wenna  sat  down,  apparently  a  little  tired. 

"  Yes,  I  have  been  out  for  a  walk,"  she  said. 


THE  CHAIN  TIGHTEATS.  85 

"Wenna,  tell  me  what  is  the  matter  with  you  !  "  the  younger 
sister  said,  imperatively. 

"  There  is  nothing  the  matter.  Well,  I  suppose  you  will 
tease  me  until  I  tell  you  something.  I  have  had  a  fit  of 
despondency,  Mabyn,  and  that's  all — despondency,  over 
nothing ;  and  now  I  am  quite  cured,  and  do  you  think  Jen- 
nifer could  get  me  a  cup  of  tea  ?  Well,  why  do  you  stare  ? 
Is  there  anything  wonderful  in  it  ?  I  suppose  every  girl  must 
get  frightened  a  little  bit  when  she  thinks  of  all  that  may 
happen  to  her — especially  when  she  is  alone — and  of  course 
it  is  very  ungrateful  of  her  to  have  any  such  doubts,  though 
they  mean  nothing,  and  she  ought  to  be  ashamed — " 

She  stopped  suddenly.  To  her  dismay  she  found  that  she 
was  admitting  to  Mabyn  the  very  reasons  which  she  expected 
to  have  to  combat.  She  saw  what  she  had  done  in  the  ex- 
pression of  Mabyn's  face — in  the  proud,  indignant  mouth 
and  the  half-concealed  anger  of  the  eyes.  The  younger  sis- 
ter was  silent  for  a  minute,  and  then  she  said,  passionately — 

"  If  there's  any  one  to  be  ashamed,  it  isn't  you,  Wenna. 
I  know  who  it  is.  As  for  you,  I  don't  know  what  has  come 
over  you  of  late — you  are  trying  to  be  meeker  and  meeker, 
and  more  humble,  and  more  grateful — and  all  for  what  ? 
What  have  you  to  be  grateful  for  ?  And  you  are  losing  all 
your  fun  and  your  good  spirits ;  and  you  are  getting  to  be 
just  like  children  in  the  story-books,  that  repeat  texts  and 
get  gooder  and  gooder  every  day  until  they  are  only  fit  for 
heaven  ;  and  I  am  sure  I  am  always  glad  when  the  little 
beasts  die.  Oh,  Wenna,  I  would  rather  see  you  do  the 
wickedest  thing  in  all  the  world  if  it  would  only  bring  you 
back  to  your  old  self  !  " 

"  Why,  you  foolish  girl,  I  am  my  old  self,"  the  elder  sister 
said,  quietly  taking  of!  her  bonnet  and  laying  it  on  the  table. 
"  Is  Jennifer  up-stairs  ?     Who  is  in  the  parlor  ?  " 

"  Oh,  your  sweetheart  is  in  the  parlor,"  said  Mabyn,  with 
badly  concealed  contempt.  "  He  is  just  arrived  from  London. 
I  suppose  he  is  telling  mother  about  his  rheumatism." 

"  He  hasn't  got  any  rheumatism — any  more  than  you 
have,"  Wenna  said,  with  some  asperity. 

"  Oh  yes,  he  has,"  the  younger  sister  said,  inventing  a  dia- 
bolical story  for  the  mere  purpose  of  getting  Wenna  into  a 
rage.  She  would  rather  have  her  in  a  succession  of  tempers 
than  the  victim  of  this  chastened  meekness.  "  And  gout 
too — I  can  see  by  the  color  of  his  nails.  Of  course  he  hasn't 
told  you,  for  you're  such  a  simpleton  he  takes  advantage  of 
you.      And  he  is  near-sighted,  but  he  pretends  he  doesn't 


S6  THREE  FEATHERS. 

need  spectacles.  And  I  am  told  he  has  fearful  debts  hang- 
ing over  his  head  in  London,  and  that  he  only  came  here  to 
hide ;  and  if  you  marry  him  you'll  see  what  will  come  to 
you." 

Mabyn  was  not  very  successful  in  making  her  sister  angry. 
Wenna  only  laughed  in  her  gentle  fashion,  and  put  her  light 
shawl  beside  her  bonnet,  and  then  went  along  the  passage  to 
the  parlor,  in  which  Mr.  Roscorla  and  her  mother  were 
talking. 

The  meeting  of  the  lovers  after  their  temporary  separation 
was  not  an  impassioned  one.  They  shook  hands ;  Wenna 
hoped  he  was  not  fatigued  by  the  long  journey;  and  then  he 
resumed  his  task  of  describing  to  Mrs.  Rosewarne  the  ex- 
traordinary appearance  of  Trelyon's  sitting-room  in  Nolan's 
Hotel,  after  the  young  gentleman  had  filled  it  with  birds  and 
beasts.  Presently,  however,  Wenna's  mother  made  some 
pretence  for  getting  out  of  the  room,  and  Mr.  Roscorla  and 
his  betrothed  were  left  alone.  He  rarely  got  such  an  op- 
portunity. 

"  Wenna,  I  have  brought  you  the  ring,"  said  he;  and  with 
that  he  took  a  small  case  from  his  pocket,  and  opened  it,  and 
produced  a  very  pretty  gipsy  ring  studded  with  emeralds. 

Now  on  the  journey  down  from  London  he  had  definitely 
resolved  that  he  would  put  an  end  to  that  embarrassment  or 
shamefacedness  which  had  hitherto  prevented  his  offering  to 
kiss  the  girl  whom  he  expected  to  marry.  He  was  aware 
that  there  was  something  ridiculous  in  his  not  having  done 
so.  He  reflected  that  scarcely  any  human  being  would  be- 
lieve that  he  could  have  been  such  a  fool.  And  it  occurred 
to  him,  in  the  train,  that  the  occasion  of  his  giving  Wenna 
her  engaged  ring  would  be  an  excellent  opportunity  for  break- 
ing in  upon  this  absurd  delicacy. 

He  went  across  the  room  to  her.  She  sat  still,  perhaps  a 
little  paler  than  usual.  He  took  her  hand,  and  put  the  ring 
on,  and  then — 

Then  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  there  was  something 
devilish  in  the  notion  of  his  purchasing  the  right  to  kiss  her 
by  giving  her  a  trinket.  Not  that  any  such  scruple  would 
otherwise  have  affected  him  ;  but  he  was  nervously  sensitive 
as  to  what  she  might  think  ;  and  doubtless  she  was  familiar 
with  the  story  of  Margarethe  and  Faust's  casket  of  jewels. 
So  he  suddenly  said,  with  an  air  of  carelessness — 

"  Well,  do  you  like  it  ?  You  can't  quite  tell  the  color  cf 
the  stones  by  lamplight,  you  know." 

Wenna  was  not  thinking  of  the  color  of  the  stones.     Her 


THE  CHAIN  TIGHTENS.  S7 

hand  trembled ;  her  heart  beat  quickly ;  when  she  did 
manage  to  answer  him,  it  was  merely  to  say,  in  a  confused 
fashion,  that  she  thought  the  ring  very  beautiful  indeed. 

"  You  know/'  he  said  with  a  laugh,  "  I  don't  think  men  like 
engaged  rings  quite  as  well  as  girls  do.  A  girl  generally 
seems  to  take  such  a  fancy  for  an  engaged  ring  that  she  won't 
change  it  for  any  other.  I  hope  that  won't  be  in  your  case, 
Wenna ;  and,  indeed,  I  wanted  to  talk  to  you  about  it." 

He  brought  a  chair  close  to  her,  and  sat  down  by  her,  and 
took  her  hand.  Now,  ordinarily  Wenna's  small,  white,  plump 
hands  were  so  warm  that  her  sister  used  to  say  that  they 
tingled  to  the  very  tips  of  her  fingers  with  kindness,  and 
were  always  wanting  to  give  away  something.  The  hand 
which  Mr.  Roscorla  held  was  as  cold  and  as  impassive  as  ice. 
He  did  not  notice  it :  he  was  engaged  in  preparing  sen- 
tences. 

"  You  know,  Wenna,"  said  he,  "  that  I  am  not  a  rich  man. 
When  I  might  have  taught  myself  to  work  I  had  just  suf- 
ficient income  to  keep  me  idle  ;  and  now  that  this  income 
is  growing  less,  and  when  I  have  greater  claims  on  it,  I  must 
try  something.  Well,  my  partners  and  myself  have  thought 
of  a  scheme  which  I  think  will  turn  out  all  right.  They  pro- 
pose to  wake  up  those  estates  in  Jamaica,  and  see  if  they  can't 
be  made  to  produce  something  like  what  they  used  to  pro- 
duce. That  wants  money.  They  have  it :  I  have  not.  It 
is  true  I  have  been  offered  the  loan  of  a  few  thousand 
pounds  ;  but  even  if  I  accept  it — and  I  suppose  I  must — that 
would  not  put  me  on  an  equal  footing  with  the  other  men  who 
are  going  into  the  affair.  This,  however,  I  could  do  :  I  could 
go  out  there  and  do  all  in  my  power  to  look  after  their  in- 
terests and  my  own— see,  in  fact,  that  the  money  was  being 
properly  expended,  before  it  was  too  late.  Now  I  might  be 
there  a  very  long  time." 

"  Yes,"  said  Wenna,  in  a  low  voice,  and  rather  inappro- 
priately. 

"  Now  don't  let  me  alarm  you  ;  but  do  you  think — do  you 
not  think,  in  view  of  what  might  be  rather  a  long  separation, 
that  we  ought  to  get  married  before  I  go  ?  " 

She  suddenly  and  inadvertently  withdrew  her  hand. 

"  But  don't  make  any  mistake,  Wenna,"  he  said ;  "  I  did 
not  propose  you  should  go  with  me.  That  would  be  asking 
too  much.  I  don't  wish  to  take  you  to  the  West  Indies ; 
because  I  might  be  there  only  for  a  few  months.  All  I  wish 
is  to  have  the  bond  that  unites  us  already  made  fast  before  I 


SS  THREE  FEATHERS. 

go,  merely  as  a  comfortable  thing  to  think  of,  don't  you 
see?" 

"  Oh,  it  is  too  hasty — I  am  afraid — why  should  we  be  in 
such  a  hurry  ?  "  the  girl  said,  still  with  her  heart  beating  so 
that  she  could  scarcely  speak. 

"  No,"  he  argued,  "  you  must  not  make  another  mistake. 
Before  this  scheme  can  be  matured,  months  must  elapse.  I 
may  not  have  to  go  out  before  the  beginning  of  next  year. 
Now  surely  six  months  would  make  a  sufficiently  long  engage- 
ment." 

"  Oh,  but  the  pledge  is  so  terrible,"  she  said,  and  scarcely 
knowing  what  she  said. 

Mr.  Roscorla  was  at  once  astonished  and  vexed.  That 
was  certainly  not  the  mood  in  which  a  girl  ought  to  look  for- 
ward to  her  marriage.  He  could  not  understand  this  dread 
on  her  part.  He  began  to  ask  himself  whether  she  would 
like  to  enjoy  the  self-importance  that  her  engagement  had 
bestowed  on  her — the  attentions  he  paid  her,  the  assistance 
he  gave  her  in  her  charitable  labors,  and  the  sort  of  sover- 
eignty over  a  man  which  a  girl  enjoys  during  the  betrothal 
period — for  an  indefinite  time,  or  perhaps  with  the  hope 
that  the  sudden  destruction  of  all  these  things  by  marriage 
might  never  arrive  at  all.  Then  he  began  to  get  a  little 
angry,  and  got  up  from  the  chair,  and  walked  once  or  twice 
up  and  down  the  room. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  don't  understand  you,  I  confess. 
Except  in  this  way,  that  our  relations  with  each  other  have 
not  been  so  openly  affectionate  as  they  might  have  been. 
That  I  admit.  Perhaps  it  was  my  fault.  I  suppose,  for 
example,  you  have  been  surprised  that  I  never  offered  to  kiss 
you  ?  " 

There  was  something  almost  of  threat  in  the  last  few 
words  ;  and  Wenna,  with  her  cheeks  suddenly  burning  red, 
anxiously  hastened  to  say — 

"  Oh,  not  at  all.  It  was  my  fault.  I  am  sure  if  there  was 
too  great  reserve  it  was  my  fault ;  but  I  do  not  think  there 
has  been.  It  is  not  that  at  all ;  but  your  wish  seems  so  sud- 
den, and  so  unnecessary." 

"  Don't  you  see,"  he  said,  interrupting  her,  "that  if  our 
relations  at  present  are  not  sufficiently  frank  and  confidential, 
nothing  will  mend  that  so  easily  as  our  marriage  ?  And  this 
that  I  ask  cf  you  ought  to  be  as  agreeable  to  you  as  to  me — 
that  is  to  say — " 

He  stopped,  with  a  look  of  impatience  on  his  face.  There 
was  some  one  coming  along  the  passage.     He  knew  who  it 


AN  UNEXPECTED  CONVERT.  89 

was,  too ;  for  a  young  girl's  voice  was  doing  its  best  to  im- 
itate in  a  burlesque  fashion  a  young  man's  voice ;  and  Mr. 
Roscorla  had  already  heard  Harry  Trelyon,  as  he  rode  or 
drove  carelessly  along,  bawling  to  himself,  "  Oh,  the  men  of 
merry,  merry  England  ! "  He  knew  that  his  old  enemy 
Mabyn  was  at  hand. 

That  very  clever  imitation  of  Harry  Trelyon  was  all  the 
warning  that  the  young  lady  in  question  condescended  to  give 
of  her  approach.  She  opened  the  door  without  ceremony, 
marched  into  the  middle  of  the  room,  and  proudly  placed  a 
bird-cage  on  the  table. 

"There,"  said  she,  "can  either  of  you  tell  me  what  that 
bird  is  ? " 

"Of  course  I  can,"  said  Wenna,  rising  with  a  sensation  of 
great  relief. 

"  No,  you  can't,"  her  sister  said,  dogmatically.  "  It  is  sent 
to  you  with  Mr.  Harry  Trelyon's  compliments;  and  it  is 
something  very  wonderful  indeed.  What  is  it,  ladies  and 
gentlemen  ?     Don't  answer  all  at  once  !  " 

"  Why,  it  is  only — " 

"  A  piping  bullfinch— that's  what  it  is,"  said  Mabyn,  tri- 
umphantly. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

AN   UNEXPECTED   CONVERT. 

Next  morning  was  Sunday  morning ;  and  Wenna,  navmg 
many  things  to  think  over  by  herself,  started  off  alone  to 
church,  some  little  time  before  the  others,  and  chose  a  cir- 
cuitous route  to  the  small  building  which  stands  on  the  high 
uplands  over  the  sea.  It  was  a  beautiful  morning,  still  and 
peaceful,  with  the  warmth  of  the  sunlight  cooled  by  a  refresh- 
ing western  breeze  ;  and  as  she  went  along  and  up  the  valley, 
her  heart  gradually  forgot  its  cares,  for  she  was  listening  to 
the  birds  singing,  and  picking  up  an  occasional  wild  flower, 
or  watching  the  slow  white  clouds  across  the  blue  sky.  And 
as  she  walked  quietly  along  in  this  way,  finding  her  life  the 
sweeter  for  the  sweet  air  and  the  abundant  color  and  bright- 
ness of  all  the  things  around  her,  it  chanced  that  she  saw 
Harry  Trelyon  coming  across  one  of  the  meadows,  evidently 
with  the  intention  of  bidding  her  good-morning;  and  she 
thought  she  would  stop  and  thank  him  for  having  sent  her  the 


90  THREE  FEATHERS. 

bullfinch.  This  she  did  very  prettily  when  he  came  up  ;  and 
he,  with  something  of  a  blush  on  his  handsome  face,  said — 

"  I  thought  you  wouldn't  be  offended.  One  can  use  more 
freedom  with  you  now  that  you  are  as  good  as  married,  you 
know." 

She  quickly  got  away  from  that  subject  by  asking  him 
whether  he  was  coming  to  church ;  and  to  that  question  he 
replied  by  rather  a  scornful  laugh,  and  by  asking  what  the 
parsons  would  say  if  he  took  a  gun  into  the  family  pew.  In 
fact,  he  had  brought  out  an  air-cane  to  test  its  carrying  pow- 
ers ;  and  he  now  bore  it  over  his  shoulder. 

"  I  think  you  might  have  left  the  gun  at  home  on  a  Sun- 
day morning,"  Miss  Wenna  said,  in  rather  a  precise  fashion. 
"And,  do  you  know,  Mr.  Trelyon,  I  can't  understand  why 
you  should  speak  in  that  way  about  clergymen,  when  you  say 
yourself  that  you  always  avoid  them,  and  don't  know  any- 
thing about  them.  It  reminds  me  of  a  stable-boy  we  once 
had  who  used  to  amuse  the  other  lads  by  being  impertinent 
to  every  stranger  who  might  pass,  simply  because  the  stranger 
was  a  stranger." 

This  was  a  deadly  thrust ;  and  the  tall  young  gentleman 
flushed,  and  was  obviously  a  trifle  angry.  Did  she  mean  to 
convey  that  he  had  acquired  his  manners  from  stable-boys  ? 

"  Parsons  and  churches  are  too  good  for  the  likes  o'  me," 
he  said,  contemptuously.  "  'Morning,  Miss  Rosewarne," 
and  with  that  he  walked  off. 

But  about  three  minutes  thereafter,  when  she  was  peace- 
fully continuing  her  way,  he  overcook  her  again,  and  said  to 
her,  in  rather  a  shamefaced  fashion — 

"  I  hope  you  don't  think  I  meant  to  be  rude  to  you,  Miss 
Wenna.  I'll  go  to  church  with  you  if  you  like.  I've  stuck 
my  air-cane  in  a  safe  place." 

Wenna's  face  brightened. 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad,"  she  said,  with  a  smile  far  more 
frank  and  friendly  than  any  she  had  ever  yet  bestowed  on 
him.  "  And  I  am  sure  if  you  came  often  to  hear  Mr.  Trew- 
hella,  or  if  you  knew  him,  you  would  think  differently  about 
clergymen." 

"  Oh,  well,"  Trelyon  said,  "  he's  a  good  sort  of  old  chap,  I 
think.  I  find  no  fault  with  him.  But  look  at  such  a  fellow 
as  that  Barnes — why,  that  fellow's  son  was  with  me  at  Rugby, 
and  wasn't  he  a  pretty  chip  of  the  old  block — a  mean,  lying  little 
beggar,  who  would  do  anything  to  get  a  half-crown  out  of 
you." 

"  Oh,  were  you  at  Rugby  ? "  Wenna  asked,  innocently. 


AN  UNEXPECTED  CONVERT.  91 

"  I  don't  wonder  at  your  asking,"  her  companion  said,  with 
a  grin.  "  You  think  it  doesn't  look  as  if  I  had  ever  been  to 
any  school  ?  Oh  yes,  I  was  at  Rugby  ;  and  my  career  there, 
if  brief,  was  not  inglorious.  I  think  the  records  of  all  the 
eight  Houses  might  be  searched  in  vain  to  find  such  another 
ruffian  as  I  was,  or  any  one  who  managed  to  get  into  the 
same  number  of  scrapes  in  the  same  time.  The  end  was 
dramatic.  They  wouldn't  let  me  go  to  a  ball  in  the  town- 
hall.  I  had  vowed  I  should  be  there  ;  and  I  got  out  of  the 
House  at  night  and  went.  And  I  hadn't  been  in  the  place 
ten  minutes  when  I  saw  the  very  master  who  had  refused  me 
fix  his  glittering  eye  on  me ;  so,  as  I  knew  it  was  all  over,  I 
merely  went  up  to  him  and  asked  to  have  the  pleasure 
of  being  introduced  to  his  daughter.  I  thought  he'd  have 
had  a  fit.  But  that  little  brute  Barnes  I  was  telling  you 
about,  he  was  our  champion  bun-eater.  At  that  time,  you 
know,  they  used  to  give  you  as  many  buns  as  ever  you  liked 
on  Shrove  Tuesday ;  and  the  Houses  used  to  eat  against 
each  other,  and  this  fellow  Barnes  was  our  champion  ;  and,  oh 
Lord !  the  number  he  stowed  away  that  morning.  When  we 
went  to  chapel  afterwards,  he  was  as  green  as  a  leek." 

"  But  do  you  dislike  clergymen  because  Master  Barnes  ate 
too  many  buns  ?  "  Wenna  asked,  with  a  gentle  smile,  which 
rather  aggrieved  her  companion. 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  he,  "  I  think  you  are  awfully  hard  on 
me.  You  are  always  trying  to  catch  me  up.  Here  am  I 
walking  to  church  with  you,  like  an  angel  of  submission,  and 
all  the  thanks  I  get —     Why,  there  goes  my  mother  !  " 

Just  in  front  of  them,  and  a  short  distance  from  the  church, 
the  road  they  were  following  joined  the  main  highway  lead- 
ing up  from  Eglosilyan,  and  along  the  latter  Mrs  Trelyon's 
brougham  was  driving  past.  That  lady  was  .very  much 
astonished  to  find  her  son  walking  with  Miss  Wenna  Rose- 
warne  on  Sunday  morning"*  and  still  more  surprised  when, 
after  she  was  in  church,  she  beheld  Master  Harry  walk 
coolly  in  and  inarch  up  to  the  family  pew.  Here,  indeed,  was 
a  revolution.  Which  of  all  the  people  assembled — among 
whom  were  Miss  Mabyn  and  her  mother,  and  Mr.  Roscorla 
— had  ever  seen  the  like  of  this  before  ?  And  it  was  all  the 
greater  wonder  that  the  young  gentleman  in  the  rough  shoot- 
ing-coat found  two  clergymen  in  the  pew,  and  nevertheless 
entered  it,  and  quietly  accepted  from  one  of  them  a  couple 
of  books. 

Mrs.  Trelyon's  gentle  and  emotional  heart  warmed  towards 
the  girl  who  had  done  this  thing. 


92  THREE  FEATHERS. 

That  forenoon,  just  before  luncheon,  Mrs.  Trelyon  found 
her  son  in  the  libiary,  and  said  to  him,  with  an  unusual  kind- 
liness of  manner — 

"  That  was  Miss  Rosewarne,  Harry,  wasn't  it,  whom  I  saw 
this  morning  ?  " 

"Yes,"  he  said,  sulkily.  He  half  expected  that  one  or 
other  of  his  friends,  the  parsons,  had  been  saying  something 
about  her  to  his  mother. 

"  She  is  a  very  quiet,  nice-looking  girl ;  I  am  sure  Mr. 
Roscorla  has  acted  wisely,  after  all.  And  I  have  been 
thinking,  Harry,  that  since  she  is  a  friend  of  yours,  .we  might 
do  something  like  what  you  proposed,  only  not  in  a  way  to 
make  people  talk." 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  "  I  have  done  it  already.  I  have  promised 
to  lend  Roscorla  five  thousand  pounds  to  help  him  to  work 
his  Jamaica  estates.  If  you  don't  like  to  sanction  the  affair, 
I  can  get  the  money  from  the  Jews.  I  have  written  to 
Colonel  Ransome  to  tell  him  so." 

"  Now  why  should  you  treat  me  so,  Harry  ?  "  his  mother 
said. 

"  I  took  you  at  your  word — that's  all.  I  suppose  now  you 
are  better  disposed  to  the  girl  merely  because  she  got  me  to 
go  to  church  this  morning.  If  there  were  more  people  like 
her  about  churches,  in  the  pulpits  and  out  of  them,  I'd  go 
oftener." 

"  I  was  not  quite  sure  who  she  was,"  Mrs.  Trelyon  said, 
with  a  feeble  air  of  apology.  "  I  like  her  appearance  very 
much ;  and  I  wish  she  or  anybody  else  would  induce  you  to 
go  to  church.  Well  now,  Harry,  I  will  myself  lend  you  the 
five  thousand  pounds  till  you  come  of  age.  Surely  that  will 
be  much  better;  and  if  you  like,  I  will  make  Miss  Rose- 
warne's  acquaintance.  You  might  ask  her  to  dinner  the  first 
time  Mr.  Roscorla  is  coming ;  and  he  could  bring  her." 

Master  Harry  was  at  last  pacified. 

"  Make  it  Thursday,"  said  he  ;  "  and  you  will  write  to  her, 
won't  you  ?  I  will  take  down  the  letter  and  persuade  her ; 
but  if  she  comes  she  shan't  come  under  the  wing  of  Mr. 
Roscorla,  as  if  he  were  the  means  of  introducing  her.  I 
shall  go  down  for  her  with  the  brougham,  and  fetch  her  my- 
self." 

"  But  what  will  Mr.  Roscorla  say  to  that  ? "  his  mother 
asked,  with  a  smile. 

"  Mr.  Roscorla  may  say  whatever  he  particularly  pleases," 
responded  Master  Harry. 


SIE  BAT  SO  SANFT,  SO  LrEBLICH.  93 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

"SIE    BAT   SO    SANFT,    SO    LIEBLICH." 

"To  dine  at  Trelyon  Hall?"  said  George  Rosewarne  to 
his  eldest  daughter,  when  she  in  a  manner  asked  his  consent. 
"  Why  not  ?  But  you  must  get  a  new  dress,  lass  ;  we  can't 
have  you  go  among  grand  folks  as  Jim  Crow." 

"  But  there  is  a  story  about  the  crow  that  went  out  with 
peacock's  feathers,"  his  daughter  said  to  him.  "  And, 
besides,  how  could  I  get  a  new  dress  by  Thursday  ?  " 

"  How  could  you  get  a  new  dress  by  Thursday  ?  "  her 
father  repeated  mechanically,  for  he  was  watching  one  of  his 
pet  pigeons  on  the  roof  of  the  mill.  "  How  can  I  tell  you? 
Go  and  ask  your  mother.     Don't  bother  me." 

It  is  quite  certain  that  Wenna  would  not  have  availed  her- 
self of  this  gracious  permission — for  her  mother  was  not  very 
well,  and  she  did  not  wish  to  increase  that  tender  anxiety 
which  Mrs.  Rosewarne  already  showed  about  her  daughter's 
going  among  these  strangers — but  that  this  conversation  had 
been  overheard  by  Mabyn,  and  that  young  lady,  as  was  her 
habit,  plunged  headlong  into  the  matter. 

"  You  can  have  the  dress  quite  well,  Wenna,"  she  said, 
coming  out  to  the  door  of  the  inn,  and  calling  on  her  mother 
to  come  too.  "  Now,  look  here,  mother,  I  give  you  warning 
that  I  never,  never,  never  will  speak  another  word  to  Wenna 
if  she  doesn't  take  the  silk  that  is  lying  by  for  me  and  have 
it  made  up  directly — never  a  single  word,  if  I  live  in  Eglo- 
silyan  for  a  hundred  and  twenty-five  years  !  " 

"  Mabyn,  I  don't  want  a  new  dress,"  Wenna  expostulated. 
"  I  don't  need  one.  Why  should  you  rush  at  little  things  as 
if  you  were  a  squadron  of  cavalry  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care  whether  you  want  it  or  whether  you  don't 
want  it ;  but  you've  got  to  have  it,  hasn't  she,  mother  ?  Or 
else  it's  what  I  tell  you  :  not  a  word — not  a  word,  if  you 
were  to  go  down  before  me  on  your  bended  knees."  This 
was  said  with  much  dramatic  effect. 

"  I  think  you  had  better  let  Mabyn  have  her  own  way," 
the  mother  said,  gently. 

"  I  let  her  ?  "  Wenna  answered,  pretending  not  to  notice 
Mabyn's  look  of  defiance  and  triumph.  "  She  always  has 
her  own  way  ;  tomboys  always  have." 

"  Don't  call  names,  Wenna,"  her  sister  said,  severely ; 
"  especially  as  I  have  just  given  you  a  dress.     You'll  have  to 


94  THREE  FEATHERS. 

get  Miss  Keam  down  directly,  or  else  I'll  go  and  cut  it  my- 
self, and  then  you'll  have  Harry  Trelyon  laughing  at  you ; 
for  he  always  laughs  at  people  who  don't  know  how  to  keep 
him  in  his  proper  place." 

"  Meaning  yourself,  Mabyn,"  the  mother  said  ;  but  Mabyn 
was  not  to  be  crushed  by  any  sarcasm. 

Certainly  Harry  Trelyon  was  in  no  laughing  or  spiteful 
mood  when  he  drove  down  on  that  Thursday  evening  to  take 
Wenna  Rosewarne  up  to  the  Hall.  He  was  as  pleased  and 
proud  as  he  well  could  be  ;  and  when  he  went  into  the  inn 
he  made  no  secret  of  his  satisfaction  and  of  his  gratitude  to 
her  for  having  been  good  enough  to  accept  his  mother's  invi- 
tation. Moreover,  understanding  that  Mrs.  Rosewarne  was 
still  rather  ailing,  he  had  brought  down  for  her  a  brace  of 
grouse  from  a  hamper  that  had  reached  the  Hall  from  York- 
shire that  morning;  and  he  was  even  friendly  and  good-na- 
tured to  Mabyn  instead  of  being  ceremoniously  impertinent 
towards  her. 

"  Don't  you  think,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  said  Wenna,  in  a  timid 
way,  as  she  was  getting  into  the  brougham — "  don't  you  think 
we  should  drive  around  for  Mr.  Roscorla  ?  " 

"  Oh,  certainly  not,"  said  Mabyn,  with  promptitude. 
"  He  always  prefers  a  walk  before  dinner — I  know  he  does 
— he  told  me  so.  He  must  have  started  long  ago.  Don't 
you  mind  her,  Mr.  Trelyon." 

Mr.  Trelyon  was  grinning  as  he  and  Wenna  drove  away. 

"  She's  a  thorough  good  sort  of  girl,  that  sister  of  yours," 
he  said  ;  "but  when  she  marries  won't  she  lead  her  husband  a 
pretty  dance  ! " 

"  Oh,  nothing  of  the  sort,  I  can  assure  you,"  Wenna  said, 
sharply.  "  She  is  as  gentle  as  any  one  can  well  be.  If  she 
is  impetuous,  it  is  always  in  thinking  of  other  people.  There 
is  nothing  she  wouldn't  do  to  serve  those  whom  she  really 
cares  for." 

"  Well,"  said  he,  with  a  laugh,  "  I  never  knew  two  girls  stick 
up  so  for  one  another.  Don't  imagine  I  was  such  a  fool  as 
to  say  anything  against  her.  But  sisters  ain't  often  like  that. 
My  cousin  Jue  has  a  sister  at  school,  and  when  she's  at  home 
the  bullying  that  goes  on  is  something  awful ;  or  rather  it's- 
nagging  and  scratching,  for  girls  never  go  in  for  a  fair  stand- 
up  light.  And  yet  when  you  meet  these  two  separately,  you 
find  each  of  them  as  good-natured  and  good-tempered  as  you 
could  wish.  But  if  there's  anything  said  about  you  anywhere 
that  isn't  positive  worship,  why  Mabyn  comes  down  on  the 


SIE  BA  T  SO  SANFTy  SO  LIEBLICH.  95 

people  like  a  cart-load  of  bricks  ;  and  she  can  do  it,  mind 
you,  when  she  likes." 

"  Remember,"  he  said,  after  a  word  or  two,  "  I  mean  to 
take  you  in  to  dinner.  It  is  just  possible  my  mother  may 
ask  Mr.  Roscorla  to  take  you  in,  as  a  compliment  to  him ; 
but  don't  you  go." 

"  I  must  do  what  I  am  told,"  Wenna  answered,  meekly. 

"  Oh  no,  you  mustn't,"  he  said.  "  That  is  merely  a  girl's 
notion  of  what  is  proper.  You  are  a  woman  now  ;  you  can 
do  what  you  like.  Don't  you  know  how  your  position  is 
changed  since  you  became  engaged  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  is  changed,"  she  said ;  and  then  she  added 
quickly,  "  Surely  that  must  be  a  planet  that  one  can  see 
already." 

11  You  can  be  much  more  independent  in  your  actions  now, 
and  much  more  friendly  with  many  people,  don't  you  know  ?  " 
said  this  young  man,  who  did  not  see  that  he  was  treading  on 
very  delicate  ground,  and  that  of  all  things  in  the  world  that 
Wenna  least  liked  to  hear  spoken  of,  her  engagement  to  Mr. 
Roscorla  was  the  chief. 

Late  that  night,  when  Wenna  returned  from  her  first  din- 
ner-party at  Trelyon  Hall,  she  found  her  sister  Mabyn  wait- 
ing up  for  her,  and,  having  properly  scolded  the  young  lady 
for  so  doing,  she  sat  down  and  consented  to  give  her  an  am- 
ple and  minute  description  of  all  the  strange  things  that  had 
happened. 

"  Well,  you  must  know,"  said  she,  folding  her  hands  on 
her  knees  as  she  had  been  used  to  do  in  telling  tales  to 
Mabyn  when  they  were  children  together — "  you  must  know 
that  when  we  drove  up  through  the  trees,  the  house  seemed 
very  big  and  gray  and  still ;  for  it  was  getting  dark,  and 
there  was  no  sound  about  the  place.  It  was  so  ghost-like 
that  it  rather  frightened  me  ;  but  in  the  hall  we  passed  the 
door  of  a  large  room,  and  there  I  got  a  glimpse  of  a  very 
gay  and  brilliant  place,  and  I  heard  some  people  talking. 
Mr.  Trelyon  was  waiting  for  me  when  I  came  down  again, 
and  he  took  me  into  the  drawing-room  and  introduced  me  to 
his  mother,  who  was  very  kind  to  me,  but  did  not  seem  in- 
clined to  speak  much  to  any  one.  There  was  no  other  lady 
in  the  room — only  those  two  clergymen  who  were  in  church 
last  Sunday,  and  Mr.  Trewhella  and  Mr.  Roscorla.  I  thought 
Mr.  Roscorla  was  a  little  embarrassed  when  he  came  forward 
to  shake  hands  with  me — and  that  was  natural,  for  all  the 
people  must  have  known — and  he  looked  at  my  dress  the 
moment  I  entered  the  room  ;  and  then,  Mabyn,  I  did  thank 


9  6  THREE  FEATHERS. 

you  in  my  heart  for  letting  me  have  it ;  for  I  had  forgotten 
that  Mr.  Roscorla  would  regard  me  as  being  on  my  trial,  and 
I  hope  he  was  not  ashamed  of  me." 

" Ashamed  of  you!"  said  Mabyn,  with  a  sudden  flash 
of  anger.      "  Do  you  mean  that  he  was  on  his  trial  ?  " 

"  Be  quiet.  Well,  you  must  know  that  Mr.  Trelyon  was 
in  very  high  spirits,  but  I  never  saw  him  so  good-natured, 
and  he  must  needs  take  me  in  to  dinner,  and  I  sat  on 
his  right  hand.  Mrs.  Trelyon  told  me  it  was  only  a  quiet 
little  family  party;  and  I  said  I  was  very  glad.  Do  you 
know,  Mabyn,  there  is  something  about  her  that  you  can't 
help,  liking—  I  think  it  is  her  voice  and  her  soft  way  of 
looking  at  you;  but  she  is  so  very  gentle  and  ordinarily 
so  silent,  that  she  makes  you  feel  as  if  you  were  a  very  for- 
ward and  talkative  and  rude  person — ' 

"  That  is  precisely  what  you  are,  Wenna,"  Mabyn  observed, 
in  her  school-girl  sarcasm. 

"  But  Mr.  Trelyon,  he  was  talking  to  everybody  at  once 
— all  around  the  table — I  never  saw  him  in  such  spirits ; 
and  most  of  all  he  was  very  kind  to  Mr.  Trewhella,  and  I 
liked  him  for  that.  He  told  me  he  had  asked  Mr.  Trew- 
hella because  I  was  coming ;  and  one  thing  I  noticed  was 
that  he  was  always  sending  the  butler  to  fill  Mr.  Trewhella's 
glass,  or  to  offer  him  some  different  wine,  whereas  he  let 
the  other  two  clergymen  take  their  chance.  Mr.  Roscorla 
was  at  the  other  end  of  the  table—he  took  in  Mrs.  Trel- 
yon— i  hope  he  was  not  vexed  that  I  did  not  have  a  chance 
of  speaking  to  him  the  whole  evening ;  but  how  ^  could  I 
help  it  ?  He  would  not  come  near  me  in  the  drawing-room 
— perhaps  that  was  proper,  considering  that  we  are  engaged  ; 
only  I  hope  he  is  not  vexed." 

For  once  Miss  Mabyn  kept  a  hold  over  her  tongue,  and 
not  reveal  the  thoughts  that  were  uppermost  in  her  mind. 

"  Well,  after  dinner  Mrs.  Trelyon  and  I  went  back  to 
the  drawing-room ;  and  it  was  very  brilliant  and  beautiful ; 
but,  oh !  one  felt  so  much  alone  in  the  big  place  that  I 
was  glad  when  she  asked  me  if  I  would  play  something 
for  her.  It  was  something  to  think  about;  but  I  had  no 
music,  and  I  had  to  begin  and  recollect  all  sorts  of  pieces 
that  I  had  almost  forgotten.  At  first  she  was  at  the  other 
end  of  the  room,  in  a  low  easy-chair  of  rose-colored  ^  silk, 
and  she  looked  really  very  beautiful  and  sad,  and  as  if  she 
were  dreaming.  But  by  and  by  she  came  over  and  sat 
by  the  piano ;  and  it  was  as  if  you  were  playing  to  a  ghost, 
that    listened    without    speaking.      I  played  one  or    two    of 


SIE  BA  T  SO  SANFT,  SO  LIEBLICH.  97 

the  '  Songs  without  Words ' — those  I  could  recollect  easily 
— then  Beethoven's  '  Farewell  ; '  but  while  I  was  playing  that 
I  happened  to  turn  a  little  bit,  and,  do  you  know,  she 
was  crying  in  a  quiet  and  silent  way.  Then  she  put  her 
hand  gently  on  my  arm,  and  I  stopped  playing,  but  I  did 
not  turn  towards  her,  for  there  was  something  so  strange 
and  sad  in  seeing  her  cry  that  I  was  nearly  crying  myself, 
and  I  did  not  know  what  was  troubling  her.  Then,  do 
you  know,  Mabyn,  she  rose  and  put  her  hand  on  my 
head,  and  said,  '  I  hear  you  are  a  very  good  girl ;  I  hope 
you  will  come  and  see  me.'  Then  I  told  her  I  was 
sorry  that  something  I  had  played  had  troubled  her; 
and  as  I  saw  she  was  still  distressed,  I  was  very  glad  when 
she  asked  me  if  1  would  put  on  a  hood  and  shawl,  and 
take  a  turn  with  her  round  some  of  the  paths  outside.  It 
is  such  a  beautiful  night  to-night,  Mabyn,  and  up  there, 
where  you  seemed  to  be  just  under  the  stars,  the  scents  of 
the  flowers  were  so  sweet.  Sometimes  we  walked  under 
the  trees,  almost  in  darkness,  and  then  we  would  come  out 
on  the  clear  space  of  the  lawn,  and  find  the  skies  overhead, 
and  then  we  would  go  into  the  rose-garden,  and  all  the 
time  she  was  no  longer  like  a  ghost,  but  talking  to  me  as 
if  she  had  known  me  a  long  time.  And  she  is  such  a  strange 
woman,  Mabyn — she  seems  to  live  so  much  apart  from  other 
people  and  to  look  at  everything  just  as  it  affects  herself. 
Fancy  a  harp,  you  know,  never  thinking  of  the  music  it 
was  making ;  but  looking  all  the  time  at  the  quivering  of 
its  own.  strings.  I  hope  I  did  not  offend  her ;  for  when  she 
was  saying  some  very  friendly  things  about  me — of  course 
Mr.  Trelyon  had  been  telling  her  a  heap  of  nonsense — about 
helping  people  and  that,  she  seemed  to  think  that  the  only 
person  to  be  considered  in  such  cases  was  yourself,  and 
not  those  whom  you  might  try  to  help.  Well,  when  she 
was  talking  about  the  beautiful  sensations  of  being  benev- 
olent— and  how  it  softened  your  heart  and  refined  your 
feelings  to  be  charitable — I  am  afraid  I  said  something 
I  should  not  have  said,  for  she  immediately  turned  and  asked 
me  what  more  I  would  have  her  do.  Well,  I  thought  to 
myself,  if  I  have  offended  her,  it's  done  and  can't  be  helped  ; 
and  so  I  plunged  into  the  very  thing  I  had  been  thinking 
of  all  the  way  in  the  brougham —  '* 

"  The  Sewing  Club  !  "  said  Mabyn  ;  for  Wenna  had  already 
spoken  of  her  dark  and  nefarious  scheme  to  her  sister. 

"  Yes ;  once  I  was  in  it,  I  told  her  of  the  whole  affair;  and 
what  she  could  do  if  she  liked.     She  was  surprised,  and  I 


98  THREE  FEATHERS. 

think  a  little  afraid.  *  I  do  not  know  the  people,'  she  said, 
'  as  you  do.  But  I  should  be  delighted  to  give  you  all  the 
money  you  required,  if  you  would  undertake  the  rest.'  '  Oh 
no,  madame,'  said  I  (afterwards  she  asked  me  not  to  call  her 
so),  'that  is  impossible.  I  have  many  things  to  do  at  home, 
especially  at  present,  for  my  mother  is  not  well.  What  little 
time  I  can  give  to  other  people  has  many  calls  on  it.  And  I 
could  not  do  all  this  by  myself.' " 

"  I  should  think  not,"  said  Mabyn,  rising  up  in  great  indig- 
nation, and  beginning  to  walk  up  and  down  the  room.  "  Why, 
Wenna,  they'd  work  your  fingers  to  the  bone,  and  never  say 
thank  you.  You  do  far  too  much  already — I  say  vou  do  far 
too  much  already — and  the  idea  that  you  should  do  that ! 
You  may  say  what  you  like  about  Mrs.  Trelyon— she  may  be 
a  very  good  lady,  but  I  consider  it  nothing  less  than  mean- — 
I  consider  it  disgraceful,  mean,  and  abominably  wicked  that 
she  should  ask  vou  to  do  all  this  work  and  do  nothing  her- 
self ! " 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  Wenna,  "  you  are  quite  unjust.  Mrs. 
Trelyon  is  neither  mean  nor  wicked ;  but  she  was  in  ignor- 
ance, and  she  is  timid,  and  unused  to  visiting  poor  people. 
When  I  showed  her  that  no  one  in  Eglosilyan  could  so  effect- 
ively begin  the  Club  as  herself — and  that  the  reckless  giving 
of  money  that  she  seemed  inclined  to  was  the  worst  sort  of 
kindness — and  when  I  told  her  of  all  my  plans  of  getting  the 
materials  wholesale,  and  making  the  husbands  subscribe  and 
the  women  sew,  and  all  that  I  have  told  you,  she  took  to  the 
plan  with  an  almost  childish  enthusiasm  ;  and  now  it  is  quite 
settled,  and  the  only  danger  is  that  she  may  destroy  the  pur- 
pose of  it  by  being  over-generous.  Don't  you  see,  Mabyn,  it 
is  her  first  effort  in  actual  and  practical  benevolence — she 
seems  hitherto  only  to  have  satisfied  her  sense  of  duty  or 
pleased  her  feelings  by  giving  checks  to  public  charities — and 
she  is  already  only  a  little  too  eager  and  interested  in  it.  She 
doesn't  know  what  a  slow  and  wearisome  thing  it  is  to  give 
some  little  help  to  your  neighbors  discreetly." 

"Oh,  Wenna,"  her  sister  said,  "what  a  manager  you  are  ! 
Sometimes  I  think  you  must  be  a  thousand  years  of  age  ;  and 
other  times  you  seem  so  silly  about  your  own  affairs  that  I 
can't  understand  you.     Did  Mr.  Roscorla  bring  you  home  ?  " 

"  No,  but  he  came  in  the  brougham  along  with  Mr.  Trelyon. 
There  was  a  great  deal  of  joking  about  the  conquest — so  they 
said — I  had  made  of  Mrs.  Trelyon  ;  but  you  see  how  it  all 
came  about,  Mabyn.     She  was  so  interested  in  this  scheme — " 

"  Oh  yes  ,  I  see  how  it  all  came  about,"  said  Mabyn,  quite 


A  LEAVE-TAKING  OF  LOVERS.  99 

contentedly.  "  And  now  you  are  very  tired,  you  poor  little 
thing,  and  I  sha'n't  ask  you  any  more  about  your  dinner-party 
to-night.     Here  is  a  candle." 

Wenna  was  just  going  into  her  own  room,  when  her  sister 
turned  and  said — 

"Wenna?" 

"Yes,  dear." 

"  Do  you  think  that  his  Royal  Highness  Mr.  Roscorla  con- 
descended to  be  pleased  with  your  appearance  and  your 
manners  and  your  dress  ?  " 

"Don't  you  ask  impertinent  questions,"  said  Wenna,  as 
she  shut  the  door. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A    LEAVE-TAKING   OF    LOVERS. 

Wenna  had  indeed  made  a  conquest  of  the  pale  and  gentle 
lady  up  at  the  Hall,  which  at  another  time  might  have  been 
attended  with  important  results  to  the  people  of  Eglosilyan. 
But  at  this  period  of  the  year  the  Trelyons  were  in  the  habit 
of  leaving  Cornwall  for  a  few  months  ;  Mrs.  Trelyon  generally 
going  to  some  Continental  watering-place,  while  her  son  pro- 
ceeded to  accept  such  invitations  as  he  could  get  to  shoot  in 
the  English  counties.  This  autumn  Harry  Trelyon  accom- 
panied his  mother  as  far  as  Etretat,  where  a  number  of  her 
friends  had  made  up  a  small  party.  From  this  point  she 
wrote  to  Wenna,  saying  how  sorry  she  was  she  could  not  per- 
sonally help  in  founding  that  Sewing  Club,  but  offering  to 
send  a  handsome  subscription.  Wenna  answered  the  letter 
in  a  dutiful  spirit,  but  firmly  declined  the  offer.  Then  noth- 
ing was  heard  of  the  Trelyons  for  a  long  time,  except  that 
now  and  again  a  hamper  of  game  would  make  its  appearance 
at  Eglosilyan,  addressed  to  Miss  Wenna  Rosewarne  in  a 
sprawling  school-boy's  hand,  which  she  easily  recognized. 
Master  Harry  was  certainly  acting  on  his  own  theory  that 
now  she  was  engaged  he  could  give  her  presents,  or  other- 
wise be  as  familiar  and  friendly  with  her  as  he  pleased. 

It  was  a  dull,  slow,  and  dreary  winter.  Mr.  Roscorla  was 
deeply  engaged  with  his  Jamaica  project,  and  was  occasion- 
ally up  in  London  for  a  fortnight  at  a  time.  He  had  got  the 
money  from  young  Trelyon,  and  soon  hoped  to  set  out — as  he 
told  Wenna — to  make  his  fortune.     She  put  no  obstacle  in  his 


ioo  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

way,  nor  did  she  encourage  him  to  go ;  it  was  for  him  to  de- 
cide, and  she  would  abide  by  his  decision.  For  the  rest,  he 
never  revived  that  request  of  his  that  they  should  be  married 
before  he  went. 

Eglosilyan  in  winter-time  is  a  very  different  place  from  the 
Eglosilyan  of  the  happy  summer  months.  The  wild  coast  is 
sombre  and  gloomy.  The  uplands  are  windy  and  bleak  and 
bare.  There  is  no  shining  plain  of  blue  lying  around  the  land, 
but  a  dark  and  cheerless  sea,  that  howls  in  the  night-time  as 
it  beats  on  the  mighty  walls  of  black  rock.  It  is  rather  a  re- 
lief, indeed — to  break  the  mournful  silence  of  those  project- 
ing cliffs  and  untenanted  bays — when  the  heavens  are  shaken 
with  a  storm,  and  when  the  gigantic  waves  wash  into  the 
small  harbor,  so  that  the  coasters  seeking  shelter  there  have 
to  be  scuttled  and  temporarily  sunk  in  order  to  save  them. 
Then  there  are  the  fierce  rains,  to  guard  against  which  the 
seaward-looking  houses  have  been  faced  with  slate  ;  and  the 
gardens  get  dank  and  wet,  and  the  ways  are  full  of  mire,  and 
no  one  dares  venture  out  on  the  slippery  cliffs.  It  was  a 
tedious  and  a  cheerless  winter. 

Then  Mrs.  Rosewarne  was  more  or  less  of  an  invalid  the 
most  of  the  time,  and  Wenna  was  much  occupied  by  house- 
hold cares.  Occasionally,  when  her  duties  indoors  and  in 
the  cottages  of  her  humble  friends  had  been  got  over,  she 
would  climb  up  the  hill  on  the  other  side  of  the  mill-stream 
to  have  a  look  around  her.  One  seemed  to  breathe  more 
freely  up  there  among  the  rocks  and  furze  than  in  small  par- 
lors or  kitchens  where  children  had  to  be  laboriously  taught. 
And  yet  the  picture  was  not  cheerful.  A  gray  and  leaden 
sea — a  black  line  of  cliffs  standing  sharp  against  it  until  lost 
in  the  mist  of  the  south — the  green  slopes  over  the  cliffs 
touched  here  and  there  with  the  brown  of  withered  bracken 
— then  down  in  the  two  valleys  the  leafless  trees  and  gardens 
and  cottages  of  Eglosilyan,  the  slates  ordinarily  shining  wet 
with  the  rain.  One  day  Wenna  received  a  brief  little  letter 
from  Mrs.  Trelyon,  who  was  at  Mentone,  and  who  said  some- 
thing about  the  balmy  air,  and  the  beautiful  skies,  and  the 
blue  water  around  her;  and  the  girl,  looking  out  on  the 
hard  and  stern  features  of  this  sombre  coast,  wondered  how 
such  things  could  be. 

Somehow  there  was  so  much  ordinary  and  commonplace 
work  to  do  that  Wenna  almost  forgot  that  she  was  engaged; 
and  Mr.  Roscorla,  continually  occupied  with  his  new  project, 
seldom  cared  to  remind  her  that  they  were  on  the  footing  of 
sweethearts.     Their  relations  were  of  an  eminently  friendly 


A  LEAVE-TAKING  OE  LOVERS.  id 

character,  but  little  more — in  view  ''oVi'hk  iVyrthcorhirig' separa- 
tion he  scarcely  thought  it  worth  whije  to  b  aye  them  anything 
more.  Sometimes  he  was  inclined  to  ajiclo.H^e'  to  her  for  the 
absence  of  sentiment  and  romanticism  which  marked  their  in- 
timacy ;  but  the  more  he  saw  of  her  the  more  he  perceived 
that  she  did  not  care  for  that  sort  of  thing,  and  was,  indeed, 
about  as  anxious  to  avoid  it  as  he  was  himself.  She  kept 
their  engagement  a  secret.  He  once  offered  her  his  arm  in 
going  home  from  church;  she  made  some  excuse,  and  he 
did  not  repeat  the  offer.  When  he  came  in  of  an  evening 
to  have  a  chat  with  George  Rosewarne,  they  talked  about 
the  subjects  of  the  day  as  they  had  been  accustomed  to  do 
long  before  this  engagement ;  and  Wenna  sat  and  sewed  in 
silence,  or  withdrew  to  a  side-table  to  make  up  her  account- 
books.  Very  rarely  indeed — thanks  to  Miss  Mabyn,  whose 
hostilities  had  never  ceased — had  he  a  chance  of  seeing  his 
betrothed  alone,  and  then,  somehow,  their  conversation  invari- 
ably took  a  practical  turn.     It  was  not  a  romantic  courtship. 

He  considered  her  a  very  sensible  girl.  He  was  glad  that 
his  choice  was  approved  by  his  reason.  She  was  not  beauti- 
ful ;  but  she  had  qualities  that  would  last — intelligence,  sweet- 
ness, and  a  sufficient  fund  of  gentle  humor  to  keep  a  man  in 
good  spirits.  She  was  not  quite  in  his  own  sphere  of  life  ; 
but  then,  he  argued  with  himself,  a  man  ought  always  to  marry 
a  woman  who  is  below  him  rather  than  above  him — in  social 
position,  or  in  wealth,  or  in  brain,  or  in  all  three — for  then 
she  is  all  the  more  likely  to  respect  and  obey  him,  and  to  be 
grateful  to  him.  Now,  if  you  do  not  happen  to  have  won  the 
deep  and  fervent  love  of  a  woman — a  thing  that  seldom  oc- 
curs— gratitude  is  a  very  good  substitute.  Mr.  Roscorla  was 
quite  content. 

"Wenna,"  said  he,  one  day  after  they  had  got  into  the 
new  year,  and  when  one  had  begun  to  look  forward  to  the 
first#  indications  of  spring  in  that  southern  county,  "  the 
whole  affair  is  now  afloat,  and  it  is  time  I  should  be  too — 
forgive  the  profound  witticism.  Everything  has  been  done 
out  there;  we  can  do  no  more  here;  and  my  partners  think 
I  should  sail  about  the  fifteenth  of  next  month." 

Was  he  asking  her  permission,  or  expecting  some  utter- 
ance of  regret  that  he  looked  at  her  so?  She  cast  down  her 
eyes,  and  said,  rather  timidly — 

"  I  hope  you  will  have  a  safe  voyage — and  be  successful." 

He  was  a  little  disappointed  that  she  said  nothing  more  ; 
but  he  himself  immediately  proceeded  to  deal  with  the  as- 
pects of  the  case  in  a  most  business-like  manner. 


102  THREE  FEATHERS. 

"And  ilren,"  said'  he,  •'  "'I  don't  want  to  put  you  to  the 
pain  of  taking  a  formal  and  solemn  farewell  as  the  ship  sails. 
One  al  a  ays  f^ls  downhearted"  in  watching  a  ship  go  away, 
even  though  there  is  no  reason.  I  must  go  to  London  in 
any  case  for  a  few  days  before  sailing,  and  so  I  thought  that 
if  you  wouldn't  mind  coming  as  far  as  Launceston — with 
your  mother  or  sister — you  could  drive  back  here  without 
any  bother." 

"  If  you  do  not  think  it  unkind,"  said  Wenna,  in  a  low 
voice,  "  I  should  prefer  that ;  for  I  could  not  take  mamma 
farther  than  Launceston,  I  think." 

"  I  shall  never  think  anything  you  do  unkind,"  said  he. 
"I  do  not  think  you  are  capable  of  unkindness." 

He  wished  at  this  moment  to  add  something  about  her  en- 
gaged ring,  but  could  not  quite  muster  up  courage.  He 
paused  for  a  minute,  and  became  embarrassed,  and  then  told 
her  what  a  first-class  cabin  to  Jamaica  would  cost. 

And  at  length  the  day  came  round.  The  weather  had 
been  bitterly  cold  and  raw  for  the  previous  two  or  three 
weeks  ;  though  it  was  March  the  world  seemed  still  frozen 
in  the  grasp  of  winter.  Early  on  this  bleak  and  gray  fore- 
noon Mr.  Roscorla  walked  down  to  the  inn,  and  found  the 
wagonette  at  the  door.  His  luggage  had  been  sent  on  to 
Southampton  some  days  before ;  he  was  ready  to  start  at 
once. 

Wenna  was  a  little  pale  and  nervous  when  she  came  out 
and  got  into  the  wagonette  ;  but  she  busied  herself  in  wrap- 
ping abundant  rugs  and  shawls  around  her  mother,  who  pro- 
tested against  being  buried  alive. 

"  Good-bye,"  said  her  father,  shaking  hands  with  Mr.  Ros- 
corla carelessly,  "  I  hope  you'll  have  a  fine  passage.  Wenna, 
don't  forget  to'  ask  for  those  cartridge-cases  as  you  drive  back 
from  the  station." 

But  Miss  Mabyn's  method  of  bidding  him  farewell  was  far 
more  singular.  With  an  affectation  of  playfulness  she  offered 
him  both  her  hands,  and  so,  making  quite  sure  that  she  had 
a  grip  on  the  left  hand  of  that  emerald  ring  that  had  afforded 
her  much  consolation,  she  said — 

"  Good-bye.     I  hope  you  will  get  safely  out  to  Jamaica." 

"  And  back  again  ?  "  said  he,  with  a  laugh. 

Mabyn  said  nothing,  turned  away,  and  pretended  to  be  ex- 
amining the  outlines  of  the  wagonette.  Nor  did  she  speak 
again  to  any  one  until  the  small  party  drove  away ;  and  then, 
when  they  had  got  over  the  bridge  and  along  the  valley,  and 


A  LEAVE-TAKING  OF  LOVERS.  103 

up  and  over  the  hill,  she  suddenly  ran  to  her  father,  flung 
her  arms  around  his  neck,  kissed  him,  and  cried  out — 

"  Hurrah  !  the  horrid  creature  is  gone,  and  he'll  never 
come  back — never  !  " 

"  Mabyn,"  said  her  father,  in  a  peevish  ill-temper,  as  he 
stooped  to  pick  up  the  broken  pipe  which  she  had  caused  him 
to  let  fall,  "  I  wish  you  wouldn't  be  such  a  fool." 

But  Mabyn  was  not  to  be  crushed.  She  said,  "  Poor  dadda, 
has  it  broken  its  pipe  ? "  and  then  she  walked  off,  with  her 
head  very  erect,  and  a  very  happy  light  on  her  face,  while 
she  sang  to  herself,  after  the  manner  of  an  acquaintance  of 
hers,  "Oh,  the  men  of  merry,  merry  England  ! " 

There  was  less  cheerfulness  in  that  wagonette  that  was 
making  its  way  across  the  bleak  uplands — a  black  speck  in 
the  gray  and  wintry  landscape.  Wenna  was  really  sorry  that 
this  long  voyage,  and  all  its  cares  and  anxieties,  should  lie 
before  one  who  had  been  so  kind  to  her ;  it  made  her  miser- 
able to  think  of  his  going  away  into  strange  lands  all  by  himself, 
with  little  of  the  buoyancy  and  restlessness  and  ambition  of 
youth  to  bear  him  up.  As  for  him,  he  was  chiefly  occupied 
during  this  silent  drive  across  to  Launceston  in  nursing  the 
fancy  that  he  was  going  out  to  fight  the  world  for  her  sake — 
as  a  younger  man  might  have  done — and  that,  if  he  returned 
successful,  her  gratitude  would  be  added  to  the  substantial 
results  of  his  trip.  It  rather  pleased  him  to  imagine  himself 
in  this  position.  After  all,  he  was  not  so  very  elderly  ;  and 
he  was  in  very  good  preservation  for  his  years.  He  was 
more  than  a  match  in  physique,  in  hopefulness,  and  in  a 
knowledge  of  the  world  that  ought  to  stand  him  in  good  stead 
for  many  a  younger  man  who,  with  far  less  chances  of  suc- 
cess, was  bent  on  making  a  fortune  for  the  sake  of  some  par- 
ticular girl. 

He  was  not  displeased  to  see  that  she  was  sorry  about  his 
going  away.  She  would  soon  get  over  that.  He  had  no 
wish  that  she  should  continually  mope  in  his  absence  ;  nor 
did  he,  indeed,  believe  that  any  sensible  girl  would  do  any- 
thing of  the  sort. 

At  the  same  time  he  had  no  fear  whatever  as  to  her  re- 
maining constant  to  him.  A  girl  altogether  out  of  the  way  of 
meeting  marriageable  young  men  would  be  under  no  tempta- 
tion to  let  her  fancies  rove.  Moreover,  Wenna  Rosewarne 
had  something  to  gain  in  social  position  by  her  marriage 
with  him,  which  she  could  not  be  so  blind  as  to  ignore ;  and 
had  she  not,  too,  the  inducement  of  waiting  to  see  whether  he 
might  not  bring  back  a  fortune  to  her  ?     But  the  real  cause 


104  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

of  his  trust  in  her  was  that  experience  of  her  uncompro- 
mising sincerity  and  keen  sense  of  honor  that  he  had  acquired 
during  a  long  and  sufficiently  intimate  friendship.  If  the 
thought  of  her  breaking  her  promise  ever  occurred  to  him,  it 
was  not  as  a  serious  possibility,  but  as  an  idle  fancy,  to  be 
idly  dismissed. 

"  You  are  very  silent,"  he  said  to  her. 

"  I  am  sorry  you  are  going  away,"  she  said,  simply  and 
honestly ;  and  the  admission  pleased  and  flattered  him. 

"  You  don't  give  me  courage,"  he  said,  laughingly.  "  You 
ought  to  consider  that  I  am  going  out  into  the  world — even 
at  my  time  of  life — to  get  a  lot  of  money  and  come  back  to 
make  a  grand  lady  of  you." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  she,  in  sudden  alarm — for  such  a  thought  had 
never  entered  her  head — "  I  hope  you  are  not  going  away  on 
my  account.  You  know  that  I  wish  for  nothing  of  that  kind. 
I  hope  you  did  not  consider  me  in  resolving  to  go  to  Jamaica  !  " 

"  Well,  of  course  I  considered  you,"  said  he,  good-naturedly  ; 
"  but  don't  alarm  yourself ;  I  should  have  gone  if  I  had 
never  seen  you.  But  naturally  I  have  an  additional  motive 
in  going  when  I  look  at  the  future." 

That  was  not  a  pleasant  thought  for  Wenna  Rosewarne. 
It  was  not  likely  to  comfort  her  on  stormy  nights,  when  she 
might  lie  awake  and  think  of  a  certain  ship  at  sea.  She  had 
acquiesced  in  his  going,  as  in  one  of  those  things  which  men 
do  because  they  are  men,  and  seem  bound  to  satisfy  their 
ambition  with  results  which  women  might  consider  unneces- 
sary. But  that  she  should  have  exercised  any  influence  on 
his  decision — that  alarmed  her  with  a  new  sense  of  respon- 
sibility, and  she  began  to  wish  that  he  could  suddenly  drop 
this  project,  have  the  wagonette  turned  around,  and  drive 
back  to  the  quiet  content  and  small  economies  and  peace- 
ful work  of  Eglosilyan. 

They  arrived  in  good  time  at  Launceston,  and  went  for  a 
stroll  up  to  the  fine  old  castle  while  luncheon  was  being  got 
ready  at  the  hotel.  Wenna  did  not  seem  to  regard  that  as  a 
very  enticing  meal  when  they  sat  down  to  it.  The  talk  was 
kept  up  chiefly  by  her  mother  and  Mr.  Roscorla,  who  spoke 
of  life  on  shipboard,  and  the  best  means  of  killing  the  tedium 
of  it.  Mr.  Roscorla  said  he  would  keep  a  journal  all  the 
time  he  was  away,  and  send  instalments  from  time  to  time  to 
Wenna. 

They  walked  from  the  hotel  down  to  the  station.  Just 
outside  the  station  they  saw  a  landau,  drawn  by  a  pair  of 
beautiful  grays,  which  were  being  walked  up  and  down. 


A  LEAVE-TAKING  OE  LOVERS. 


105 


"  Surely  those  are  Mrs.  Trelyon's  horses,"  Wenna  said ; 
and  as  the  carriage,  which  was  empty,  came  nearer,  the 
coachman  touched  his  hat.  "  Perhaps  she  is  coming  back  to 
the  Hall  to-day." 

The  words  were  uttered  carelessly,  for  she  was  thinking  of 
other  things.  When  they  at  last  stood  on  the  platform,  and 
Mr.  Roscorla  had  chosen  his  seat,  he  could  see  that  she  was 
paler  than  ever.  He  spoke  in  a  light  and  cheerful  way, 
mostly  to  her  mother,  until  the  guard  requested  him  to  get 
into  the  carriage,  and  then  he  turned  to  the  girl  and  took  her 
hand. 

"  Good-bye,  my  dear  Wenna,"  said  he.  "  God  bless  you  ! 
I  hope  you  will  write  to  me  often." 

Then  he  kissed  her  cheek,  shook  hands  with  her  again, 
and  got  into  the  carriage.  She  had  not  spoken  a  word.  Her 
lips  were   trembling — she  could  not  speak — and  he  saw  it. 

When  the  train  went  slowly  out  of  the  station,  Wenna 
stood  and  looked  after  it  with  something  of  a  mist  before  her 
eyes,  until  she  could  see  nothing  of  the  handkerchief  that 
was  being  waved  from  one  of  the  carriage  windows.  She 
stood  quite  still,  until  her  mother  put  her  hand  on  her  shoul- 
der, and  then  she  turned  and  walked  away  with  her.  They 
had  not  gone  three  yards  when  they  were  met  by  a  tall  young 
man  who  had  come  rushing  down  the  hill  and  through  the 
small  station-house. 

"  By  Jove  !  "  said  he,  "  I  am  just  too  late.  How  do  you 
do,  Mrs.  Rosewarne?  How  are  you,  Wenna?" — and  then 
he  paused,  and  a  great  blush  overspread  his  face — for  the  girl 
looked  up  at  him  and  took  his  hand  silently,  and  he  could 
see  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes.  It  occurred  to  him  that  he 
had  no  business  there — and  yet  he  had  come  on  an  errand 
of  kindness.  So  he  said,  with  some  little  embarrassment,  to 
Mrs.  Rosewarne — "  I  heard  you  were  coming  over  to  this 
train,  and  I  was  afraid  you  would  find  the  drive  back  in  the 
wagonette  rather  cold  this  evening.  I  have  got  our  landau 
outside — closed,  you  know — and  I  thought  you  might  let  me 
drive  you  over."  Mrs.  Rosewarne  looked  at  her  daugh- 
ter. Wenna  decided  all  such  things,  and  the  girl  said  to 
him,  in  a  low  voice — 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  you." 

"Then  just  give  me  a  second,  that  I  may  tell  your  man," 
Trelyon  said,  and  off  he  darted. 

Was  it  his  respect  for  W'enna's  trouble,  or  had  it  been  his 
knocking  about  among  strangers  for  six  months,  that  seemed 
to  Jiave  given  to  the  young  man  (at  least  in  Mrs.  Rosewarne's 


106  THREE  FEATHERS. 

eyes)  something  of  a  more  courteous  and  considerate  man- 
ner? When  the  three  of  them  were  being  rapidly  whirled 
along  the  Launceston  highway  in  Mrs.  Trelyon's  carriage 
Harry  Trelyon  was  evidently  bent  on  diverting  Wenna's 
thoughts  from  her  present  cares ;  and  he  told  stories  and 
asked  questions,  and  related  his  recent  adventures  in  such  a 
fashion  that  the  girl's  face  gradually  lightened,  and  she  grew 
interested  and  pleased.  She,  too,  thought  he  was  much  im- 
proved— how  she  could  not  exactly  tell. 

"  Come,"  said  he,  at  last,  "you  must  not  be  very  down- 
hearted about  a  mere  holiday  trip.  You  will  soon  get  letters, 
you  know,  telling  you  all  about  the  strange  places  abroad  ; 
and  then,  before  you  know  where  you  are,  you'll  have  to 
drive  over  to  the  station,  as  you  did  to-day,  to  meet  Mr.  Ros- 
corla  coming  back." 

"  It  may  be  a  very  long  time  indeed,"  Wenna  said  ;  "  and 
if  he  should  come  to  any  harm  I  shall  know  that  I  was  the 
cause  of  it ;  for  if  it  had  not  been  for  me,  I  don't  believe  he 
would  have  gone." 

"  Oh,  that  is  quite  absurd  ! — begging  your  pardon,"  said 
Master  Harry,  coolly.  "  Roscorla  got  a  chance  of  making 
some  money,  and  he  took  it,  as  any  other  man  would.  You 
had  no  more  to  do  with  it  than  I  had — indeed,  I  had  some- 
thing to  do  with  it — but  that's  a  secret.  No  ;  don't  you  make 
any  mistake  about  that.  And  he'll  be  precious  well  off  when 
he's  out  there,  and  seeing  everything  going  on  smoothly,  es- 
pecialy  when  he  gets  a  letter  from  you,  with  a  Cornish  prim- 
rose or  violet  in  it.  And  you'll  get  that  boon  now,"  he  ad- 
ded quickly,  seeing  that  Wenna  blushed  somewhat ;  "  for  I 
fancy  there's  a  sort  of  smell  in  the  air  this  afternoon  that 
means  spring-time.  I  think  the  wind  has  been  getting  round 
to  the  west  all  day ;  before  night  you  will  find  a  difference  in 
the  air,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  I  think  it  has  become  very  fresh  and  mild  already," 
Wenna  said,  judging  by  an  occasional  breath  of  wind  that 
came  in  at  the  top  of  the  windows. 

"  Do  you  think  you  could  bear  the  landau  open  ?  "  said  he, 
eagerly. 

When  they  stopped  to  try — when  they  opened  the  windows 
— the  predictions  of  the  weather  prophet  had  already  been 
fulfilled,  and  a  strange,  genial  mildness  and  freshness  pervad- 
ed the  air.  They  were  now  near  Eglosilyan,  on  the  brow  of 
a  hill,  and  away  below  them  they  could  see  the  sea  lying  dull 
and  gray  under  the  cloudy  sky.  But  while  they  waited  H? 
th£  coachman  to  uncover  the  landau,  a  soft  and  yellow  light  be- 


THE  FAIR  SPRING-TIME.  107 

gan  to  show  itself  far  out  in  the  west,  a  break  appeared  in 
the  clouds,  and  a  vast  comb  of  gold  shot  shining  down  on  the 
plain  of  water  beneath.  The  western  skies  were  opening  up ; 
and  what  with  this  new  and  beautiful  light,  and  what  with 
the  sweet  air  that  awoke  a  thousand  pleasant  and  pathetic 
memories,  it  seemed  to  Wenna  Rosewarne  that  the  tender 
spring-time  was  at  length  at  hand,  with  all  its  wonder  of  yel- 
low crocuses  and  pale  snowdrops,  and  the  first  faint  shimmer- 
ings  of  green  on  the  hedges  and  woods.  Her  eyes  filled  with 
tears— she  knew  not  why.  Surely  she  was  not  old  enough 
to  know  anything  of  the  sadness  that  comes  to^  some  when 
the  heavens  are  cleared,  and  a  new  life  stirs  in  the  trees, 
and  the  world  awakes  to  the  fairness  of  the  spring.  She 
was  only  eighteen  ;  she  had  a  lover  ;  and  she  was  as  certain 
of  his  faithfulness  as  of  her  own. 

In  bidding  them  good-bye  at  the  door  of  the  inn,  Mr. 
Harry  Trelyon  told  them  th?t  he  meant  to  remain  in  Eglo- 
silyan  for  some  months  to  come. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE    FAIR    SPRING-TLME. 

The  spring-time  had  indeed  arrived — rapidly  and  imper- 
ceptibly ;  and  all  at  once  it  seemed  as  if  the  world  had  grown 
green,  and  the  skies  fair  and  clear,  and  the  winds  sweet  with  a 
new  and  delightful  sweetness.  Each  morning  that  Wenna  went 
out  brought  some  further  wonder  with  it — along  the  budding 
hedge-rows,  in  the  colors  of  the  valley,  in  the  fresh  warmth  of 
the  air,  and  the  white  light  of  the  skies.  And  at  last  the  sea 
began  to  show  its  deep  and  resplendent  summer  blue,  when 
the  morning  happened  to  be  still,  and  there  was  a  silvery 
haze  along  the  coast. 

"  Mabyn,  is  your  sister  at  home  ?  And  do  you  think  she 
could  go  up  to  the  Hall  for  a  little  while,  for  my  mother  wants 
to  see  her?  And  do  you  think  she  would  walk  around  by 
the  cliffs — for  it  is  such  a  capital  morning — if  you  came  with 
her  ?  " 

"Oh  yes,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  said  Mabyn,  readily,  and  with  far 
more  respect  and  courtesy  than  she  usually  showed  to  the 
young  gentleman,  "  I  am  quite  sure  Wenna  can  go  ;  and  I 
know  she  would  like  to  walk  around  by  the  cliffs — she  is  al- 
ways glad  to  do  that — and  I  will  tell  her  to  get  ready  instantly. 


idS  THREE  FEATHERS. 

But  I  can't  go,  Mr.  Trelyon — I  am  exceedingly  busy  this 
morning." 

"  Why,  you  have  been  reading  a  novel !  " 

"  But  I  am  about  to  be  exceedingly  busy,"  said  Mabyn, 
petulantly.  "  You  can't  expect  people  to  be  always  working 
and — I  tell  you  I  can't  go  with  you,  Mr.  Trelyon." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  said  he,  carelessly ;  "you  needn't  show 
your  temper." 

"  My  temper  !  "  said  Mabyn  ;  but  then  recollecting  herself, 
and  smiling  derisively,  went  away  to  fetch  her  sister. 

When  Wenna  came  outside  into  the  white  sunlight,  and 
went  forward  to  shake  hands  with  him,  with  her  dark  eyes  lit 
up  by  a  friendly  smile,  it  seemed  to  him  that  not  for  many  a 
day — not  certainly  during  all  the  time  of  her  engagement  with 
Mr.  Roscorla — had  he  seen  her  look  so  pleased,  happy,  and 
contented.  She  still  bore  that  quiet  gravity  of  demeanor 
which  had  made  him  call  her  the  little  Puritan,  and  there  was 
the  same  earnestness  in  her  eyes  as  they  regarded  any  one  ; 
but  there  was  altogether  a  brighter  aspect  about  her  face 
that  pleased  him  exceedingly.  For  he  was  very  well  disposed 
to  this  shy  and  yet  matter-of-fact  young  lady,  and  was  alter- 
nately amused  by  the  quaintness  of  her  motherly  ways  in 
dealing  with  the  people  about  her,  and  startled  into  admira- 
tion by  some  sudden  glimpse  of  the  fine  sincerity  of  her  na- 
ture. He  had  done  more  to  please  her — he  had  gone  to  church 
several  times,  and  tried  to  better  his  handwriting,  and  re- 
solved to  be  more  careful  in  speaking  of  parsons  in  her  pres- 
ence— than  he  ever  thought  he  could  have  done  to  please 
any  woman. 

So  these  two  set  forth  on  this  bright  and  cheerful  morning ; 
and  one  would  have  said,  to  see  them  as  they  went,  that  two 
happier  young  folks  were  not  within  the  county  of  Cornwall 
at  that  moment.  Wenna  had  a  pleasant  word  for  every  one 
that  passed  ;  and  when  they  had  gone  by  the  mill,  and  reached 
the  narow  path  by  the  tiny  harbor,  where  no  more  neighbors 
were  to  be  seen,  she  appeared  to  transfer  her  abounding  sym- 
pathy to  all  the  objects  around  her,  and  she  spoke  to  them 
and  laughed  to  them,  so  that  all  the  world  seemed  to  be 
friendly  with  her.  Her  sister  used  to  say  that  her  fingers 
tingled  to  the  very  tips  with  kindness ;  and  at  this  moment 
she  seemed  as  though  she  could  have  kissed  her  hand  to  all 
the  birds  and  animals  around,  and  wished  them  joy  that  they 
had  so  ruie  a  morning. 

"  Ho,  ho  !  Mr.  Porpoise,"  she  laughed  and  said,  as  she  saw 
far  below  her  a  big  fish  slowly  heel  over  in  the  blue  water  of 


THE  FAIR  SPRING-TIME.  109 

the  harbor ;  "  don't  you  come  too  far  up,  or  you  won't  like 
the  stones  in  the  stream,  I  know !  " 

There  was  a  hawk  hovering  high  in  the  air  over  Blackcliff 
— Trelyon  was  watching  it  keenly. 

"  Oh,  go  away,  you  bad  bird,"  she  cried,  "  and  let  the  poor 
little  things  alone  ! "  And,  sure  enough,  at  this  moment  the 
motionless  speck  up  there  began  to  flutter  its  wings,  and  pres- 
ently it  sailed  away  over  the  cliff  and  was  seen  no  more. 

"  Mother  Sheep,"  she  said  to  the  inattentive  custodian  of 
two  very  small  lambs  with  very  thick  legs  and  uncertain  gait, 
"  why  don't  you  look  after  your  children  ?  you'll  have  them 
tumbling  down  the  rocks  into  the  sea  in  about  a  minute — 
that's  about  what  you'll  do  ! " 

"  Boom  !  "  she  said  to  a  great  humble-bee  that  flew  heavily 
by  ;  and  to  a  white  butterfly  that  went  this  way  and  that  over 
the  warm  grass  on  the  hill-side  she  called  out,  "  My  pretty 
lady,  aren't  you  glad  the  summer  is  coming?  " 

She  talked  to  the  white  and  grey  gulls  that  were  wheeling 
over  the  sea,  and  to  the  choughs  flying  hither  and  thither 
about  the  steep  precipices  of  the  cliff.  They  did  not  answer 
her  ;  but  that  was  no  matter.  From  her  childhood  she  had  be- 
lieved that  she  knew  them  all,  and  that  they  knew  her ;  and 
that  even  the  cliffs  and  the  sea  and  the  clouds  regarded  her, 
and  spoke  to  her  in  a  strange  and  silent  fashion.  Once  she 
had  come  back  from  the  mouth  of  the  harbor  on  a  sultry  after- 
noon, when  as  yet  the  neighbors  had  heard  nothing  of  the 
low  mutterings  of  the  distant  and  coming  storm ;  and  when 
her  mother  asked  the  child  why  she  was  so  silent,  she  said, 
"  I  have  been  listening  to  God  walking  on  the  sea." 

Well,  they  sat  down  on  a  seat  which  fronted  the  wide  opening 
in  the  cliffs  and  the  great  plain  of  the  Atlantic  beyond,  that  was 
this  morning  of  a  light  and  sunny  sea-green,  with  here  and 
there  broad  purple  stains  of  shadow  as  the  summer  clouds 
passed  rapidly  over  the  sky  from  the  west.  In  the  warm  sun- 
shine, the  gorse  on  the  hill  behind  them  and  the  grass  on  the 
pasture-land  sweetened  the  air.  The  wind  blew  fresh  in  from 
the  sea ;  and  as  the  green  waves  broke  white  along  the  rocks 
beneath  them,  the  brisk  breeze  carried  with  it  a  flavor  of  salt 
from  the  fine  clouds  of  the  spray.  The  spring-time  seemed 
to  have  given  life  and  color  to  the  sea  as  well  as  to  the  land, 
for  all  the  world  was  brilliant  with  the  new  brightness  of  the 
skies. 

"And  isn't  it  first-rate,"  said  Master  Harry,  wishing  to  say 
something  very  pleasant  to  his  companion,  "  that  Mr.  Ros- 
corla  is  having  such  fine  weather  on  his  way  out?     I  am  sure 


i  to  THREE  FEATHERS. 

you  would  have  been  very  anxious  if  there  had  been  any 
storms  about.  I  hope  he  will  be  successful ;  he's  a  good  sort 
of  fellow." 

No  one  who  was  not  acquainted  with  this  young  gentleman 
could  have  guessed  at  the  dire  effort  he  had  to  make  in  order 
to  pronounce  these  few  sentences.  He  was  not  accustomed 
to  say  formally  civil  things.  He  was  very  bad  at  paying  com- 
pliments ;  and  as  for  saying  anything  friendly  of  Mr.  Roscorla, 
he  had  to  do  it  with  a  mental  grimace.  But  Wenna  was  very 
familiar  with  the  lad  and  bis  ways.  At  another  time  she 
would  have  been  amused  and  pleased  to  observe  his  endeav- 
ors to  be  polite  ;  and  now,  if  she  hastened  away  from  the  sub- 
ject, it  was  only  because  she  never  heard  Mr.  Roscorla's 
name  mentioned  without  feeling  embarrassment  and  showing 
it.  She  murmured  something  about  a  hope  that  Mr.  Roscorla 
would  not  find  the  voyage  to  Jamaica  fatiguing ;  and  then, 
somewhat  hastily,  drew  her  companion's  attention  to  another 
porpoise  which  was  showing  itself  from  time  to  time  outside 
the  rocks. 

"  I  wish  Roscorla  had  made  me  your  guardian  in  h's  ab- 
sence," said  this  blundering  young  man,  who  was  determined 
to  be  on  his  best  behavior.  "  I  quite  agree  with  Mabyn  that 
you  overwork  yourself  in  doing  for  other  people  what  the  lazy 
beggars  ought  to  do  for  themselves.  Oh,  I  know  more  than 
you  think.  I'd  wake  some  of  them  up  if  I  had  the  chance. 
Why,  they  look  on  you  as  a  sort  of  special  Providence,  bound 
to  rescue  them  at  any  moment.  I  was  told  only  yesterday  of 
old  Mother  Truscott  having  said  to  a  neighbor,  '  Well,  if  Miss 
Wenna  won't  help  me,  then  the  Lord's  will  be  done.'" 

"  Oh  yes,  I  know,"  said  his  companion,  with  some  impa- 
tience; '"  she  is  always  saying  that.  I  said  to  her  the  other 
day,  when  I  got  out  of  temper,  '  Why,  of  course  the  Lord's 
will  will  be  clone  ;  you  don't  suppose  he  wants  your  permis- 
sion ?  But  if  you'd  only  look  after  your  own  house,  and  be- 
stir yourself,  and  keep  it  smart,  your  husband  wouldn't  go  on 
as  he  does.'  There's  nothing  I  hate  worse  than  that  sort  of 
pretended  piety.  Why,  when  Abiathar  Annot's  boy  died,  I 
thought  he'd  be  out  of  his  senses  with  grief,  and  I  went  up  to 
see  if  he  was  all  right  about  the  house,  and  to  say  a  friendly 
word  to  him  ;  and  directly  I  went  into  the  house  he  said  to 
me,  quite  complacently,  '  Well,  Miss  Rosewarne,  you  know 
we  must  bow  to  the  will  of  the  Lord,  and  accept  his  chasten- 
ings  as  mercies.'  '  Oh,'  said  I,  '  if  you  take  it  that  way,  I've 
no  more  to  say  ; '  and  I  left  the  place.  I  don't  believe  in  all 
that  sort  of—" 


THE  FAIR  SPRING-TIME.  Ill 

She  suddenly  stopped,  recollecting^  to  whom  she  was 
speaking.  Were  these  proper  confessions  to  be  made  to  a 
young  man  who  had  such  a  godless  hatred  of  parsons  and 
churches  and  all  good  things;  and  whose  conversion  to 
more  respectable  ways  she  had  many  a  time  wished  to  attempt  ? 
She  dropped  that  subject ;  and  Master  Harry  was  so  resolved 
to  be  proper  and  virtuous  that  morning  that  he  took  no  ad- 
vantage of  what  she  had  said.  He  even,  in  an  awkward  fash- 
ion, observed  that  all  pious  people  were  not  hypocrites ;  one 
had  to  draw  distinctions.  Of  course  there  were  pious  people 
who  were  really  sincere.  He  hoped  Miss  Wenna  would  not 
suspect  him  of  being  so  prejudiced  as  not  to  know  that.  Miss 
Wenna  was  a  little  inclined  to  smile,  but  she  controlled  her 
lips  ;  and  Master  Harry,  having  paid,  these  ingenuous  com- 
pliments to  virtue  and  religion,  rose  with  a  frank  sigh  of  re- 
lief, proposed  that  they  should  continue  their  walk  up  the 
hill,  and  was  soon  engaged  in  telling  her — with  a  much  gayer 
tone  in  his  voice  and  with  a  return  to  his  old  impertinent 
carelessness — of  some  wild  adventure  in  cliff-hunting  which 
he  and  his  faithful  Dick  had  encountered  together. 

They  seemed  to  be  in  no  great  hurry,  these  two.  It  was  a 
morning  that  invited  to  idleness.  They  chatted  about  all 
sorts  of  things,  or  were  silent,  with  equal  and  happy  indiffer- 
ence :  he  watching  the  sea-birds,  she  stooping  from  time  to 
time  to  pick  up  some  tiny  flower  of  pale  yellow  or  purple.  In 
this  fashion  they  made  their  way  up  to  the  summit  of  the 
cliffs,  and  there  before  them  lay  the  great  plain  of  the  windy 
sea,  and  the  long  wall  of  precipice  running  down  into  the 
southwest,  and  the  high  and  bleak  uplands,  marked  by  the 
square  towers  of  small  and  distant  churches.  They  struck 
across  the  fields  to  one  of  those  churches — that  which  Mas- 
ter Harry  had  been  persuaded  to  visit.  The  place  was  now 
silent  enough  :  two  jackdaws  sat  on  the  slender  weathercock  ; 
the  sunlight  was  warm  on  the  silvery  grey  tower,  and  on  the 
long  green  grass  in  the  churchyard,  in  which  the  first  daisies 
of  spring  had  appeared.  Then  they  went  down  through  some 
narrow  lanes  towards  the  higher  portion  of  Eglosilyan  ;  and 
under  the  hedges  were  masses  of  pale  primroses,  and  the  pur- 
ple blossoms  of  the  ground-ivy,  and  the  golden  stars  of  the 
celandine.  They  drew  near  some  of  the  cottages  ;  and  in  the 
gardens  the  flowering  currant  was  in  bloom,  and  everywhere 
there  was  a  scent  of  wallflower.  They  crossed  the  main 
thoroughfare  of  the  village  ;  it  was  empty  but  for  the  presence 
of  a  small  boy,  who,  with  a  slate  slung  on  one  side  and  a  bag 
made  of  carpet  slung  on  the  other,  had  apparently  been  sent 


112  THREE  FEATHERS. 

home  from  school  for  some  reason  or  other.  The  youthful 
scholar  most  respectfully  took  off  his  cap  to  Miss  Wenna  as 
she  gave  him  a  kindly  greeting  in  passing. 

"They  say  all  that  is  owing  to  you,"  Trelyon  remarked. 

"  All  what  ?  " 

"  The  good  manners  of  the  people  in  this  village.  The  women 
bob  you  a  curtsy  as  you  pass,  the  girls  say  good-morning  or 
good-evening,  the  boys  take  off  their  caps,  even  if  you  are  a 
perfect  stranger.  But  you  don't  suppose  that  happens  in 
every  village  in  Cornwall?  My  mother  was  speaking  about 
it  only  this  morning." 

Wenna  was  sufficiently  surprised  to  know  that  she  had  got 
the  credit  of  the  courtesy  shown  to  the  strangers  by  the  Eg- 
losilyan  folks  ;  but  even  more  surprised  to  learn  that  Master 
Harry  had  deigned  to  engage  in  conversation  with  his  mother. 
He  also  seemed  to  be  taking  his  first  lessons  in  civility. 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  "  that  boy  ought  to  pay  me  every  attention 
to  make  up  for  his  bad  conduct.  He  was  once  a  sweetheart 
of  mine,  and  he  deceived  me.     He  sold  me  for  sixpence." 

She  sighed. 

"  It  is  true.  He  adopted  me  as  his  sweetheart,  and  every 
time  I  saw  him  he  promised  to  marry  me  when  he  grew  up. 
But  there  came  a  change.  He  avoided  me,  and  I  had  to 
catch  him,  and  ask  him  why.  He  confessed.  I  wasn't  his 
sweetheart  any  more.  His  elder  brother,  aged  ten,  I  think, 
had  also  wanted  me  for  a  sweetheart,  and  he  had  a  sixpence  ; 
and  sixpence  was  the  price  of  a  new  sort  of  spinning-top  that 
had  just  been  put  into  the  window  at  the  Post-office  ;  and  the 
elder  brother  proposed  to  the  younger  brother  to  take  the 
sixpence  and  buy  the  top,  and  hand  me  over.  '  So  yii  baint 
my  sweetheart  anny  mower,'  said  that  young  gentleman,  for- 
getting his  good  English  in  his  grief.  But  I  think  he  has  a 
tender  recollection  of  me  even  now." 

"  I'd  have  thrashed  the  little  brute  for  his  meanness,  if  I 
had  been  you,"  said  her  companion,  in  his  off-hand  way. 

"  Oh  no,"  she  answered,  with  a  meek  sarcasm  ;  "  wasn't  he 
only  doing  as  a  child  what  grown-up  gentlemen  are  said  to  do  ? 
When  there  is  money  on  the  one  hand  and  a  sweetheart  on 
the  other  is  not  the  sweetheart  ordinarily  thrown  over  ?  " 

"  What  can  you  know  about  it  ?  "  he  said,  bluntly.  "  In 
any  case,  you  don't  run  any  danger.  Mr.  Roscorla  is  not  like- 
ly to  be  tempted  by  bags  of  gold." 

Mr.  Roscorla — always  Mr.  Roscorla.  Wenna,  who  crim- 
soned deeply  at  the  slightest  reference  to  the  relations  be- 
tween herself  and  her  absent  lover,  began  to  be  somewhat 


THF  FAIR  SPRING-TIME.  113 

angry  with  this  thoughtless  lad,  who  would  continually  intro- 
duce the  name.  What  was  his  object  in  doing  so  ?  To  show 
her  that  he  never  failed  to  remember  her  position,  and  that 
that  was  his  excuse  for  talking  very  frankly  to  her,  as  he 
would  have  done  to  a  sister  ?  "Or  merely  to  please  her  by 
speaking  of  one  who  ought  to  be  very  dear  to  her  ?  She 
was  not  indebted  to  him  for  this  blundering  effort  of  kind- 
ness ;  and  on  any  less  cheerful  morning  might  have  visited 
him  with  one  of  those  fits  of  formal  politeness  or  of  con- 
strained silence  with  which  young  ladies  are  accustomed  to 
punish  too  forward  acquaintances. 

But  Miss  Wenna  had  it  not  in  her  heart  to  be  reserved  on 
this  pleasant  forenoon;  she  good-naturedly  overlooked  the 
pertinacious  mistakes  of  her  companion  ;  and  talked  to  him — 
and  to  the  flowers  and  birds  and  trees  around  her — with  a 
happy  carelessness,  until  the  two  of  them  together  made  their 
way  up  to  the  Hall.  Just  as  Master  Harry  opened  the  gate 
at  the  end  of  the  avenue,  and  turned  to  let  her  through,  he 
seemed  for  the  first  time  to  notice  her  dress.  He  made  no 
scruple  of  stopping  her  for  a  moment  to  look  at  it. 

"  Oh,  I  wish  you  could  get  my  mother  to  dress  like  you  !  " 

The  burst  of  admiration  was  so  genuine  that  Miss  Wenna 
— being  only  a  girl — was  very  much  pleased  indeed  !  and 
blushed  a  little,  and  would  rather  have  passed  on.  There 
was  nothing,  indeed,  remarkable  about  her  costume — about 
the  rough  light  gray  dress  with  its  touches  here  and  there  of 
blue,  nor  yet  about  the  white  hat  with  its  forget-me-nots  and 
big  white' daisies — except  that  it  seemed  to  fit  well  a  very 
pretty  figure,  and  also  that  the  blue  suited  the  dark  and  clear 
complexion  and  the  dark  eyes  and  hair. 

"  I'm  sick  of  her  stalking  about  the  house  in  the  guise  of  a 
ghost — she  all  white,  everything  else  black.  I  say,  Wenna, 
don't  you  think  you  could  get  her  to  dress  like  a  human 
being?" 

"  But  if  it  is  her  wish,  you  ought  to  respect  it." 

"  It's  only  a  craze,"  he  said,  impatiently. 

"  It  may  seem  so  to  you,"  his  companion  said ;  "  but  she  has 
her  own  reasons  for  it',  and  they  deserve  your  sympathy  even 
though  they  may  not  convince  you.  And  you  ought  not  to 
speak  in  that  harsh  way  of  one  who  is  so  very  good  and  gen- 
tle, and  who  is  so  considerate  towards  you. 

"  Oh  you  always  find  excuses  for  people,"  he  said,  roughly. 
"  Everybody  should  be  considered  and  respected,  and  have 
their  fine  feelings  praised  and  coddled,  according  to  you. 
Everybody  is  perfect,  according  to  you." 


H4  THREE  FEATHERS. 

"  Oh  dear,  no,"  she  said,  quite  humbly.  "  I  know  one  or 
two  people  whose  conduct  and  habits,  and  their  manners, 
too,  might  be  very  much  improved  indeed." 

"  I  suppose  you  mean  me  ?  "  he  said. 

"And  if  I  did  ?  "  she  said,  boldly.  "  Don't  you  think,  when 
you  want  your  mother  to  be  just  as  you  would  have  her  to  be, 
that  she  might  turn  around  and  say  that  there  was  a  great 
deal  more  in  you  that  she  might  wish  to  have  altered  ?  You 
know  her  manner  of  life  is  not  necessarily  wrong  merely  be- 
cause you  can't  understand  it.     As  for  yours — " 

"  Go  ahead  ! "  he  cried,  with  a  loud  and  suddenly  good-na- 
tured laugh.  "  Heap  up  all  my  sins  on  my  head  !  I'm  getting 
used  to  be  lectured  now.  Please,  Miss  Puritan,  would  you  like 
me  to  get  a  surplice  and  come  and  sing  hymns  in  the  choir  ?  " 

Miss  Puritan  did  not  answer.  There  was  no  look  of  annoy- 
ance on  her  face — only  a  certain  calm  reserve  that  told  her 
companion  that  he  had  somehow  wounded  the  friendly  confi- 
dence that  had  sprung  up  between  them  during  this  pleasant 
morning  ramble.  And  at  this  moment  they  reached  the  front 
of  the  Hall,  where  Mrs.  Trelyon  came  forward  to  greet  her 
visitor  ;  so  that  Master  Harry  had  no  further  opportunity  just 
then  of  asking  her  whether  he  had  offended  her,  and  of  mak- 
ing an  apology.  He  listened  for  a  few  minutes  to  his  mother 
talking  to  Wenna  about  that  Sewing  Club.  He  became  im- 
patient with  himself,  and  vexed,  for  Wenna  seemed  in  no- 
wise to  recognize  his  presence  ;  and  of  course  his  mother  did 
not  ask  his  advice  about  the  purchase  of  flannel.  He  tossed 
about  the  books  on  the  table ;  he  teased  an  Angola  cat  that 
was  lying  before  the  fire  until  it  tried  to  bite  him,  and  then 
he  put  its  nose  into  the  water  of  a  flower-vase.  With  the 
feather  of  a  quill  dipped'  in  ink  he  drew  a  fox  on  one  of  the 
white  tiles  of  the  fireplace  ;  and  then  he  endeavored  to  re- 
move that  work  of  art  with  the  edge  of  a  scarlet-and-gokl  foot- 
stool. These  various  occupations  affording  him  no  relief,  he 
got  up,  stretched  his  legs,  and  said  to  his  mother — 

"  Mother,  you  keep  her  here  for  lunch.  I  shall  be  back 
at  two." 

"  Oh,  but  I  can't  stay  so  long,"  Wenna  said,  suddenly ;  "  I 
know  I  shall  be  wanted  at  home." 

"  Oh  no,  you  won't,"  the  young  gentleman  said,  coolly  ; 
"  I  know  you  won't.  Mabyn  told  me  so.  Besides,  I  am 
going  down  now  to  tell  them  you  will  be  back  at  four." 

And  so  he  went  away,  but  his  walk  down  to  the  inn  was 
not  as  pleasant  as  that  roundabout  ramble  up  to  the  Hall  had 
been. 


OA'L  Y  A  BASKET  OF  PRIMROSES.  1:5 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

ONLY    A     BASKET    OF     PRIMROSES. 

"  What  a  busy  life  you  must  lead ! "  said  Mrs.  Trelyon, 
looking  with  a  gentle  wonder  at  the  young  lady  before  her. 
"You  seem  to  know  how  to  do  anything." 

Miss  Wenna  colored  a  little,  and  said  something  about 
having  to  help  her  mother  for  many  years  past. 

"  And  such  a  knowledge  of  the  world  as  you  have  !  "  Mrs. 
Trelyon  continued,  unconsciously  staring  at  the  girl  as  if  she 
were  some  strange  phenomenon.     "  Where  did  you  get  it  ?  " 

"  That  I  am  sure  I  have  not  got,"  Wenna  said,  brightening 
considerably,  "  for  the  strangers  who  come  to  the  inn  of  course 
don't  speak  to  me,  except  one  or  two  of  the  very  old  ladies 
sometimes,  and  all  they  speak  about  is  the  scenery.  But 
Mabyn  and  I  read  the  remarks  in  the  Visitors'  Book,  and  these 
are  very  amusing,  especially  the  poetry  that  the  young  gen- 
tlemen write  ;  and,  indeed,  Mrs.  Trelyon,  if  one  were  to  judge 
by  that  book,  one  would  think  that  the  world  was  very  silly. 
The  elderly  gentlemen  generally  praise  the  cooking ;  the 
elderly  ladies  generally  say  something  nice  about  the  clean- 
liness of  the  bedrooms  and  the  good  attendance  ;  and  the 
young  ladies  write  about  anything,  recommending  other  visi- 
tors to  go  to  particular  places,  or  saying  what  they  think  of 
the  Cornish  peasantry.  I  am  sure  they  are  all  very  good- 
natured  to  us,  and  say  very  nice  things  of  the  inn  ;  but  then 
it  looks  so  silly.  And  the  young  gentlemen  are  far  the 
worst — especially  the  University  young  gentlemen,  for  they 
write  such  stupid  poetiy  and  make  such  bad  jokes.  I  sup- 
pose it  is  that  the  fresh  air  gives  them  very  good  spirits,  and 
they  don't  care  what  they  say,  and  they  never  expect  that 
their  friends  will  see  what  they  have  written.  I  have  noticed, 
though,  that  the  walking  gentlemen  never  write  such  things 
when  they  are  leaving,  for  they  are  always  too  anxious  about 
the  number  of  miles  they  have  to  get  over  on  that  day,  and 
they  are  always  anxious,  too,  about  the  heels  of  their  stock- 
ings.    If  you  would  like  to  see  the  book — " 

Wenna  stopped.  Mrs.  Trelyon  had  been  very  good  in  ex- 
tending a  sort  of  acquaintance  to  her,  and  now  proposed  to 
help  her  in  a  way  with  her  work.  But  she  was  going  too  far 
in  expecting  that  this  reserved  and  silent  lady  should  become 
a  visitor  at  the  inn,  or  interest  herself  in  its  commonplace 
affairs.     At  this  moment,  indeed,  Mrs.  Trelyon  was  so  very 


1 1 6  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

much  reserved  that  she  did  not  notice  either  Wenna's  tenta- 
tive invitation  or  her  embarrassment  when  she  cut  it  short. 

"  I  wish,"  she  said,  absently,  showing  what  she  had  been 
thinking  about — "  I  wish  you  could  get  Harry  to  go  to  one 
of  the  Universities." 

It  was  now  Wenna's  turn  to  stare.  Did  the  mother  of  that 
young  gentleman  seriously  think  that  this  stranger-girl  had 
such  an  influence  over  him  ? 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Trelyon,"  Wenna  said,  "  how  could  I—  ?  " 

"  He  would  do  anything  for  you,"  the  gentle  lady  said, 
with  much  simplicity  and  honesty.  "  He  pays  no  attention  to 
anything  I  say  to  him  ;  but  he  would  do  anything  for  you. 
His  whole  manner  changes  when  you  are  in  the  house.  I 
think  you  are  the  only  person  in  the  world  he  is  afraid  of. 
And  it  was  so  good  of  you  to  get  him  to  go  to  church." 

iC  I  am  sure  it  was  not  I,"  said  Wenna,  getting  rather  afraid. 

"  But  I  know,"  said  Mrs.  Trelyon,  quite  affectionately,  "  for 
I  have  seen  everybody  else  try  and  fail.  You  see,  my  dear, 
you  are  in  a  peculiar  position.  You  are  young,  and  a  pleas- 
ant companion  for  a  young  man  ;  and  as  you  are  no  relation 
of  his,  he  is  courteous  to  you.  And  then,  you  see,  your  being 
engaged  to  be  married  enables  him  to  speak  freely  to  you 
and  treat  you  as  a  friend ;  and  I  think,  besides,  you  have  ac- 
quired some  means  of  keeping  him  in  check,  and  having  au- 
thority over  him,  and  I  am  sure  he  would  do  more  for  you 
than  for  any  one  I  know.  As  for  me,  I  have  never  had  any 
control  over  him ;  but  he  is  at  least  civil  to  me  when  you  are  in 
the  room." 

Wenna  rose. 

"  Mrs.  Trelyon,"  she  said,  "  don't  you  think  it  is  a  pity  to 
stay  indoors  on  such  a  beautiful  morning  ?  The  air  is  quite 
mild  and  warm  outside." 

She  was  glad  to  get  out.  There  was  something  in  this 
declaration  of  her  responsibility  for  the  young  man's  conduct 
which  considerably  startled  and  frightened  her.  It  was  all 
very  well  for  her  to  administer  an  occasional  sharp  reproof  to 
him  when  he  was  laughing  and  joking  with  herself  and  Mabyn  ; 
but  to  become  the  recognized  monitress  of  so  wild  a  pupil  as 
Master  Harry — to  have  his  own  mother  appeal  to  her — that 
was  quite  a  different  affair.  And  on  this  occasion,  when  Mrs. 
Trelyon  had  got  a  shawl  and  come  outside  with  her  guest,  all 
her  talk  was  about  her  son,  and  his  ways  and  his  prospects. 
It  was  very  clear  that,  with  all  her  lamentations  over  his  con- 
duct, Mrs.  Trelyon  was  very  fond  of  the  yonng  man,  and  was 
quite  assured,  too,  that  he  had  the  brains  to  do  anything  he 


ONLY  A  BASKET  OF  PRIMROSES.  117 

might  be  induced  to  undertake.  Wenna  listened  in  a  vague 
way  to  all  these  complaints  and  speculations  and  covert 
praises ;  she  did  not  find  her  position  so  embarrassing  in  the 
open  air  as  in  that  close  drawing-room.  They  walked  through 
the  leafy  alleys  of  the  garden,  unconsciously  regarding  the 
beautiful  color  of  the  new  spring  flowers,  and  listening  to  the 
larks  singing  high  up  in  the  blue.  From  time  to  time,  as  they 
turned,  they  caught  a  glimpse  of  hills  all  ablaze  with  gorse  ; 
and  near  the  horizon  a  long  line  of  pale  azure  with  a  single 
white  ship  visible  in  the  haze.  On  the  other  side  of  the  valley 
a  man  was  harrowing;  they  could  hear  him  calling  to  the 
horses,  and  the  jingling  of  the  chains.  Then  there  was  the 
murmur  of  the  stream  far  below,  where  the  sunlight  just 
caught  the  light  green  of  the  larches.  These,  and  the  con- 
stant singing  of  the  birds  around  them,  were  the  only  sounds 
that  accompanied  their  talk,  as  they  wandered  this  way  and 
that,  by  brilliant  garden-plots  or  through  shaded  avenues, 
where  the  air  was  sweet  with  the  fresh  scents  of  the  opening 
summer. 

And  at  last  they  came  back  to  the  proposal  that  Wenna 
should  try  to  persuade  Master  Harry  to  go  to  Oxford  or  Cam- 
bridge. 

"  But,  Mrs.  Trelyon,"  the  girl  said  earnestly,  "  I  am  quite 
sure  you  mistake  altogether  my  relations  with  your  son.  I 
could  not  presume  to  give  him  advice.  It  would  not  be  my  place 
to  do  so  even  if  we  were  on  the  footing  of  friends,  and  that, 
at  present,  is  out  of  the  question.  Don't  you  see,  Mrs.  Trelyon, 
that  because  Mr.  Trelyon  in  coming  about  the  inn  was  good- 
natured  enough  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  my  father  and 
to  talk  to  us  girls,  it  would  not  do  for  any  of  us  to  forget  how 
we  are  situated  ?  I  don't  anyway — perhaps  because  I  am 
proud — but,  at  all  events,  I  should  not  presume  on  Mr.  Trel- 
yon's  good-nature.     Don't  you  see,  Mrs.  Trelyon?  " 

"I  see  that  you  are  a  very  practical  and  sensible  and  plain- 
spoken  young  lady,"  her  companion  said,  regarding  her  with 
a  kindly  look,  "  but  I  think  you  don't  do  my  son  justice.  It 
is  not  thoughtlessness  that  made  him  make  your  acquaintance. 
I  don't  think  he  ever  did  a  more  prudent  thing  in  his  life  before. 
And  then,  dear  Miss  Rosewarne,  you  must  remember — if  I 
may  speak  of  such'  a  thing — that  you  will  soon  be  the  wife  of 
one  of  the  very  few  friends  we  have  about  here  ;  and  you  must 
excuse  us  if  we  claim  you  as  a  friend  already,  and  try  to  take 
advantage  of  your  friendship.     Now,  do  you  see  that?" 

Wenna  was  not  persuaded  ;  but  she  was,  at  all  events,  very 
pleased  to  see  that  occasionally  Mrs.  Trelyon  could  forget  her 


n8  THREE  FEATHERS. 

brooding,  sentimental  fancies,  and  become  comparatively 
bright  and  talkative. 

"  Now  will  you  say  a  word  to  him  when  he  comes  home  for 
lunch  ? " 

"  Oh  no,  I  can't  do  that,  Mrs.  Trelyon,"  Wenna  said  ;  "  it 
would  be  quite  rude  of  me  to  do  that.  Besides,  if  you  would 
not  be  displeased  with  me,  Mrs.  Trelyon,  for  saying  so,  I  don't 
think  going  to  a  University  would  do  him  any  good.  I  don't 
think — I  hope  you  won't  be  vexed  with  me — that  he  has  had 
sufficient  schooling.  And  isn't  there  an  examination  before 
you  could  get  in  ?  Well,  1  don't  know  about  that ;  but  I  am 
quite  sure  that  if  he  did  get  in,  he  would  be  too  proud  to  put 
himself  in  competition  with  the  other  young  men  who  were 
properly  prepared  for  study,  and  he  would  take  to  boating  or 
cricket,  or  some  such  thing.  Now  don't  you  think,  Mrs.  Trel- 
yon, he  would  be  as  well  occupied  in  amusing  himself  here, 
where  you  might  gradually  get  him  to  take  an  interest  in  some- 
thing besides  shooting  and  fishing?  He  knows  far  more 
things  than  most  people  fancy,  I  know  that.  My  father  says 
he  is  very  clever,  and  can  pick  up  anything  you  tell  him  ;  and 
that  he  knows  more  about  the  management  of  an  estate,  and 
about  the  slate  quarries,  and  about  mining  too,  than  people 
imagine.  And  as  for  me,"  added  the  girl  bravely,  "  I  will  say 
this,  that  I  think  him  very  clever  indeed,  and  that  he  will 
make  a  straightforward  and  honorable  man,  and  I  should  like 
to  see  him  in  Parliament,  where  he  would  be  able  to  hold  his 
own,  I  know." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Trelyon,  with  a  joyful 
face,  "  I  am  so  grateful  to  you.  I  am  so  proud  to  know  you 
think  so  highly  of  him.  And  won't  you  say  a  word  to  him  ? 
He  will  do  whatever  you  please." 

But  Miss  Wenna  had  somehow  been  startled  into  that  con- 
fession, and  the  sudden  burst  of  honesty  left  her  consid- 
erably ashamed  and  embarrassed.  She  would  not  promise 
to  intermeddle  in  the  matter,  whatever  she  had  been  induced 
to  say  about  the  future  of  the  young  man.  She  stooped  to 
pick  up  a  flower  to  cover  her  confusion,  and  then  she  asked 
Mrs.  Trelyon  to  be  good  enough  to  excuse  her  staying  to 
lunch. 

"  Oh  no,  I  dare  not  do  that,"  Mrs.  Trelyon  said  ;  "  Harry 
would  pull  the  house  down  when  he  found  I  had  let  you  go. 
You  know  we  have  no  visitors  at  present,  and  it  will  be  such 
a  pleasure  to  have  him  lunch  with  me  ;  he  seldom  does,  and 
never  at  all  if  there  are  visitors.  But  really,  Miss  Rosewarne 
it  is  so  inconsiderate  of  me  to  talk  always  of  him,  as  L  you 


ONL  Y  A  BASKE  T  OF  PRIMROSES.  I 19 

were  as  much  interested  as  myself.  Why,  the  whole  morn- 
ing we  have  not  said  a  word  about  you  and  all  you  are  look- 
ing forward  to.  I  hope  you  will  be  happy.  I  am  sure  you 
will  be,  for  you  have  such  a  sensible  way  of  regarding  things, 
and  all  is  sure  to  go  well.  I  must  say  that  I  thought  Harry 
was  a  little  more  mad  than  usual  when  he  first  told  me  about 
that  money ;  but  now  I  know  you,  I  am  very,  very  glad  in- 
deed, and  very  pleased  that  I  could  be  of  some  little  service 
to  Mr.  Roscorla  for  your  sake." 

The  girl  beside  her  did  not  understand  ;  she  looked  up 
with  wondering  eyes. 

"  What  money,  Mrs.  Trelyon  ?  " 

"  I  mean  the  money  that  Harry  got  for  Mr.  Roscorla — the 
money,  you  know,  for  these  Jamaica  estates ;  is  it  possible 
Mr.  Roscorla  did  not  tell  you  before  he  left  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  it,  Mrs.  Trelyon,  and  I  hope 
you  will  tell  me  at  once,"  Wenna  said,  with  some  decision  in 
her  tone,  but  with  a  strange  sinking  at  her  heart. 

"  You  don't  know,  then  ? "  Mrs.  Trelyon  said,  with  a  sud- 
den fear  that  she  had  been  indiscreet.  "  Oh,  it  is  nothing,  a 
mere  business  arrangement.  Of  course,  gentlemen  don't 
care  to  have  these  things  talked  over.  I  hope  you  won't 
mention  it,  dear  Miss  Rosewarne ;  I  really  thought  you 
might  have  overheard  them  speaking  of  the  matter." 

Wenna  said  nothing.  The  soft  dark  eyes  looked  a  .little 
troubled,  but  that  was  all.  And  presently  up  came  young 
Trelyon,  full  of  good  spirits  and  noise  and  bustle  ;  and  he 
drove  his  mother  and  Wenna  before  him  into  the  house  ; 
and  hurried  up  the  servants,  and  would  open  the  wine  him- 
self. His  mother  checked  him  for  whistling  at  luncheon  ; 
his  reply  was  to  toss  the  leg  of  a  fowl  on  to  the  hearthrug, 
where  a  small  and  shaggy  terrier  immediately  began  to  worry 
it.  He  put  the  Angola  cat  on  the  table  to  see  if  it  would  eat 
some  Cornish  cream  off  his  plate.  His  pigeons  got  to  know 
of  his  being  in  the  house,  and  came  flying  about  the  windows 
and  walking  jerkingly  over  the  lawn  ;  he  threw  up  the  win- 
dows and  flung  them  a  couple  of  handfuls  of  crumbs. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Wenna,"  said  he,  "  would  you  like  to  see  my 
tame  fox  ?  I  am  sure  you  would.  Mather,  you  cut  round 
to  the  stables  and  tell  old  Luke  to  bring  that  fox  here — off 
you  go — leave  the  claret  this  side." 

"  But  I  do  not  wish  to  see  the  fox ;  I  particularly  dislike 
foxes,"  said  Wenna,  with  some  asperity ;  and  Mather  was 
recalled. 

Master  Harry  grinned  to  himself ;  it  was  the  first  time  he 


120  THREE  FEATHERS. 

had  been  able  to  get  her  to  speak  to  him.  From  the  begin- 
ning of  luncheon  she  had  sat  almost  silent,  observing  his  va- 
garies and  listening  to  his  random  talk  in  silence  ;  when  she 
spoke  it  was  always  in  answer  to  his  mother.  Very  soon 
after  luncheon  she  begged  Mrs.  Trelyon  to  excuse  her  going 
away ;  and  then  she  went  and  put  on  her  hat. 

"  I'll  see  you  down  to  the  inn,"  said  Master  Harry,  when 
she  came  out  to  the  hall-door. 

"  Thank  you,  it  is  quite  unnecessary,"  she  said,  somewhat 
coldly. 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  "  you  may  be  as  nasty  as  you  please,  but  I 
shall  conquer  you  by  my  extreme  politeness." 

At  another  time  she  would  have  laughed  at  the  notion  of 
this  young  gentleman  complimenting  himself  on  his  polite- 
ness ;  now,  as  she  walked  quietly  down  the  gravelled  path  to 
the  gate,  she  was  very  grave,  and,  indeed,  took  no  notice  of 
his  presence. 

"  Wenna,"  said  he,  after  he  had  shut  the  gate  and  rejoined 
her,  "  is  it  fair  to  make  such  a  fuss  about  a  chance  word  ?  I 
think  you  are  very  hard.     I  did  not  mean  to  offend  you." 

"You  have  not  offended  me,  Mr.  Trelyon." 

"  Then  why  do  you  look  so — so  uncomfortable  ? " 

She  made  no  answer. 

"  Now,  look  here,  do  be  reasonable.  Are  you  vexed  be- 
cause I  called  you  Wenna  ?  Or  is  it  because  I  spoke  about 
singing  in  the  choir  ?  " 

"  No,"  she  said,  simply,  "  I  was  not  thinking  of  anything 
of  that  kind  ;  and  I  am  not  vexed." 

"  Then  what  is  the  matter? " 

For  another  second  or  two  she  was  silent,  apparently  from 
irresolution ;  then  she  suddenly  stopped  in  the  middle  of  the 
road,  and  confronted  him.  "  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said;  "  is  it 
true  that  you  have  given  Mr.  Roscorla  money,  and  on  my  ac- 
count ? " 

"  No,  it  is  not,"  he  said,  considerably  startled  by  her  tone  ; 
"  I  lent  him  some  money — the  money  he  wanted  to  take  to 
Jamaica." 

"  And  what  business  had  you  to  do  anything  of  the  sort  ?  " 
she  said,  with  the  shame  in  her  heart  lending  a  strangely  un- 
usual sharpness  to  her  voice. 

"  Well,"  said  the  young  man,  quite  humbly,  "  I  thought  it 
would  be  a  service  both  to  you  and  to  him ;  and  that  there 
was  no  harm  in  it.  If  he  succeeds,  he  will  pay  me  back.  It 
was  precious  silly  of  him  to  tell  you  anything  about  it ;  but 


ONL  Y  A  BASKET  OF  rRIMROSES.  121 

still,  Miss  Wenna — you  must  see — now  don't  be  unreasona- 
ble— what  harm  could  there  be  in  it  ?  " 

She  stood  before  him,  her  eyes  cast  down,  her  pale  face  a 
trifle  flushed,  and  her  hands  clasped  tight. 

"  How  much  was  it  ?  "  she  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Now,  now,  now,"  he  said,  in  a  soothing  way,  "  don't  you 
make  a  fuss  about  it ;  it  is  a  business  transaction  ;  men  often 
lend  money  to  each  other — what  a  fool  he  must  have  been  to 
have — I  beg  your  pardon — "  and  then  he  stopped,  frowning 
at  his  own  stupidity. 

"  How  much  was  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  if  you  must  know,  five  thousand  pounds." 

"  Five  thousand  pounds  !  "  she  repeated,  absently.  "  I  am 
sure  my  father  has  not  so  much  money.  But  I  will  bid  you 
good-bye  now,  Mr.  Trelyon." 

And  she  held  out  her  hand. 

"Mayn't  I  walk  down  with  you  to  the  village?"  said  he, 
looking  rather  crestfallen. 

"  No,  thank  you,"  she  said,  quietly,  and  then  she  went 
away. 

Well,  he  stood  looking  after  her  for  a  few  seconds.  Now 
that  her  back  was  turned  to  him  and  she  was  going  away, 
there  was  no  longer  any  brightness  in  the  fresh  spring  woods, 
nor  any  color  in  the  clear  skies  overhead.  She  had  been 
hard  on  him,  he  felt;  and  yet  there  was  no  anger  or  impa- 
tience in  his  heart,  only  a  vague  regret  that  somehow  he  had 
wounded  her,  and  that  they  were  no  longer  good  friends. 
He  stood  so  for  a  minute  or  two,  and  then  he  suddenly  set 
out  to  overtake  her.  She  turned  slightly  just  as  he  had  got 
up. 

"  Miss  Wenna,"  he  said,  rather  shamefacedly,  "  I  forgot  to 
ask  you  whether  you  would  mind  calling  in  at  Mrs.  Luke's 
as  you  go  by.  There  is  a  basket  of  primroses  there  for  you. 
I  set  the  children  to  gather  them  about  an  hour  ago ;  I 
thought  you  would  like  them." 

She  said  she  would ;  and  then  he  raised  his  cap  to  her — 
looked  at  her  just  for  one  moment — and  turned  and  walked 
away.  Wenna  called  for  the  basket,  and  a  very  fine  basket  ot 
flowers  it  was,  for  Mrs.  Luke  said  that  Master  Harry  had 
given  the  children  sixpence  apiece  to  gather  the  finest  prim- 
roses they  couM  get,  and  every  one  knows  what  Cornish  prim- 
roses are.  Wenna  took  away  the  flowers,  not  paying  any  par- 
ticular attention  to  them,  and  it  was  only  when  she  got  into 
her  own  room — and  when  she  felt  very  much  inclined  to  sit 
down  and  cry — that  she  noticed  lying  among  the  large  and 


122  THREE  FEATHERS. 

pale  yellow  primroses  a  bit  of  another  flower  which  one  of 
the  children  had  doubtless  placed  there.  It  was  merely  a 
stalk  of  the  small  pink-flowered  saxifrage,  common  in  cot- 
tagers' gardens,  and  called  in  some  places  London-pride ;  in 
other  parts  of  the  country  they  tenderly  call  it  None-so-pretty, 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

CONFIDENCES. 

Meanwhile  during  the  time  that  Wenna  Rosewarne  had 
been  up  at  Trelyon  Hall  her  place  in  the  inn  had  been  occu- 
pied by  a  very  handsome,  self-willed,  and  gay-hearted  young 
lady,  who  had  endeavored,  after  a  somewhat  wild  fashion,  to 
fulfil  her  sister's  duties.  She  had  gone  singing  through  the 
house  to  see  that  the  maids  had  put  the  rooms  right ;  she 
had  had  a  fight  with  Jennifer  about  certain  jellies  ;  she  had 
petted  her  mother  and  teased  her  father  into  a  good  humor, 
after  which  she  went  outside  in  her  smart  print  dress  and 
bright  ribbons,  and  sat  down  on  the  bench  of  black  oak  at 
the  door.  She  formed  part  of  a  pretty  picture  there ;  the 
bright  April  day  was  still  shining  all  around,  on  the  plashing 
water  of  the  mill,  on  the  pigeons  standing  on  the  roof,  and 
on  the  hills  beyond  the  harbor,  which  were  yellow  with 
masses  of  furze. 

"  And  now,"  said  this  young  lady  to  herself,  "the  question 
is,  can  I  become  a  villain  ?  If  I  could  only  get  one  of  the 
persons  out  of  a  story  to  tell  me  how  they  managed  to  do  it 
successfully,  how  fine  that  would  be  !  Here  is  the  letter  in 
my  pocket — of  course  it  has  his  address  in  it.  I  burn  the 
letter.  Wenna  doesn't  write  to  him.  He  gets  angry,  and 
writes  again  and  again.  I  burn  each  one  as  it  comes ;  then 
he  becomes  indignant,  and  will  write  no  more.  He  thinks  she 
has  forsaken  him,  and  he  uses  naughty  words,  and  pretends 
to  be  well  rid  of  her.  She  is  troubled  and  astonished  for  a 
time ;  then  her  pride  is  touched,  and  she  won't  mention  his 
name.  In  the  end,  of  course,  she  marries  a  handsome  young 
gentleman,  who  is  really  in  love  with  her,  and  they  are  so 
very  happy — oh,  it  is  delightful  to  think  of  it !  and'  then,  a 
long  time  after,  the  other  one  comes  home,  and  they  all  find 
out  the  villain — that's  me — but  they  are  all  quite  pleased 
with  the  way  it  has  ended,  and  they  forgive  me.  How  clever 
they  are  in  stories  to  be  able  to  do  that  ?  " 


CONFIDENCES.  123 

She  took  a  letter  out  of  her  pocket,  and  furtively  looked  at 
it.  It  bore  a  foreign  postmark.  She  glanced  around  to  see 
that  no  one  had  observed  her,  and  concealed  it  again. 

"To  burn  this  one  is  easy.  But  old  Malachi  mightn't 
always  let  me  rummage  his  bag ;  and  a  single  one  getting 
into  Wenna's  hands  would  spoil  the  whole  thing.  _  Besides, 
if  Wenna  did  not  write  out  to  Jamaica  he  would  write  home 
to  some  of  his  friends — some  of  those  nice,  cautious,  inquir- 
ing clergymen,  no  doubt,  about  the  Hall — to  let  him  know ; 
and  then' there  would  be  a  pretty  squabble.  I  never  noticed 
how  the  villains  in  the  stories  managed  that ;  I  suppose  there 
were  no  clever  clergymen  about,  and  no  ill-tempered  old  post- 
man like  Malachi  Lean.  And  oh  !  I  should  like  to  see  what  he 
says — he  will  make  such  beautiful  speeches  about  absence 
and  trust,  and  all  that ;  and  he  will  throw  himself  on  her 
mercy,  and  he  will  remind  her  of  her  engaged  ring." 

Mabyn  laughed  to  herself — a  quiet,  triumphant  laugh. 
Whenever  she  was  very  downhearted  about  her  sister's  affairs, 
she  used  to  look  at  the  gipsy  ring  of  emeralds,  and  repeat  to 
herself — 

"  Oh,  green's  forsaken, 
And  yellow's  forsworn, 
And  blue's  the  sweetest 
Color  that's  worn  !  " 

— and  on  this  occasion  she  reflected  that  perhaps,  after  all, 
it  was  scarcely  worth  while  for  her  to  become  a  villain  in 
order  to  secure  a  result  that  had  already  been  ordained  by 
Fate. 

"  Mab,"  said  her  father,  coming  out  to  interrupt  her  re- 
flections, and  speaking  in  a  peevishly  indolent  voice,  "  where's 
Wenna  ?  I  want  her  to  write  some  letters  and  to  go  over  to 
the  Annots'.  Of  course  your  mother's  ill  again,  and  can't  do 
anything. 

"  Can't  I  write  the  letters  ?  "  said  Mabyn. 

"  You  ?  you're  only  fit  to  go  capering  about  a  dancing- 
academy.     I  want  Wenna." 

"  Well,  I  think  you  might  let  her  have  one  forenoon  to 
herself,"  Mabyn  said,  with  some  sharpness  ;  "  she  doesn't 
take  many  holidays.  She's  always  doing  other  people's  work, 
and  when  they're  quite  able  to  do  it  for  themselves." 

Mabyn's  father  was  quite  insensible  to  the  sarcasm  ;  he  said, 
in  a  complaining  way — 

"  Yes,  that's  sure  enough ;  she's  always  meddling  in  other 
people's  affairs,  and  they  don't  thank  her  for  it.     And  a  nice 


124  THREE  FEATHERS. 

thing  she's  done  with  those  Annots.  Why,  that  young  Han- 
nabel  fellow  was  quite  content  to  mind  his  own  bit  of  farm 
like  any  one  else,  until  she  put  it  into  his  head  to  get  a 
spring-cart,  and  drive  all  the  way  down  to  Devonport  with 
his  poultry ;  and  now  she's  led  him  on  so  that  he  buys  up 
the  fish,  and  the  poultry  and  eggs,  and  butter  and  things  from 
all  the  folks  about  him,  to  sell  at  Devonport ;  and  of  course 
they're  raising  their  prices,  and  they'll  scarcely  deal  with  you 
except  as  a  favor,  they've  got  so  precious  independent.  And 
now  he's  come  to  the  Tregear  farm,  and  if  Wenna  doesn't 
interfere  they'll  be  contracting  with  him  for  the  whole  summer. 
There's  one  blessed  mercy,  when  she  gets  married  she'll 
have  to  stop  that  nonsense,  and  have  to  mind  her  own  busi- 
ness." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mabyn,  with  some  promptitude,  "  and  she  has 
been  left  to  mind  her  own  business  pretty  well  of  late." 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you,  Mabyn  ?  "  her  father  care- 
lessly asked,  noticing  at  length  the  peculiarity  of  her  tone. 

"  Why,"  she  said,  indignantly,  "  you  and  mother  had  no 
right  to  let  her  go  and  engage  herself  to  that  man.  You 
ought  to  have  interfered.  She's  not  fit  to  act  for  herself — 
she  let  herself  be  coaxed  over,  and  you'll  be  sorry  for  it  some 
day." 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  child,"  her  father  said,  "  and  don't 
talk  about  things  you  can't  understand.  A  lot  of  experience 
you  have  had  !  If  Wenna  didn't  want  to  marry  him,  she  could 
have  said  so;  if  she  doesn't  want  to  marry  him  now,  she  has 
only  to  say  so.     What  harm  can  there  be  in  that  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes  ;  it's  all  very  simple,"  the  girl  said  to  herself,  as 
she  rose  and  went  away ;  "  very  simple  to  say  she  can  do 
what  she  pleases  ;  but  she  can't,  and  she  should  never  have 
been  allowed  to  put  herself  in  such  a  position,  for  she  will 
find  it  out  afterwards  if  she  doesn't  now.  It  seems  to  me 
there  is  nobody  at  all  who  cares  about  Wenna  except  me  ; 
and  she  thinks  I  am  a  child,  and  pays  no  heed  to  me." 

Wenna  came  in ;  Mabyn  heard  her  go  up-stairs  to  her  own 
room,  and  followed  her. 

"  Oh,  Wenna,  who  gave  you  this  beautiful  basket  of  prim- 
roses ? "  she  cried,  guessing  instantly  who  had  given  them. 
"  It  is  such  a  pretty  present  to  give  to  any  one  !  " 

"  Mrs.  Luke's  children  gathered  them,"  Wenna  said  coldly. 

"  Oh,  indeed  ;  where  did  the  basket  come  from  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Trelyon  asked  them  to  gather  me  the  primroses," 
Wenna  said,  impatiently  ;    "  I  suppose  he  got  the  basket." 


CONFIDENCES.  125 

"  Then  it  is  his  present  ? "  Mabyn  cried.  "  Oh,  how  kind 
of  him !  And  see,  Wenna — don't  you  see  what  he  has  put  in 
among  the  primroses  ?  Look,  Wenna — it  is  a  bit  of  None-so- 
pretty.     Oh,  Wenna,  that  is  a  message  to  you. 

"  Mabyn,"  her  sister  said,  with  a  severity  that  was  seldom 
in  her  voice,  uyou  will  make  me  vexed  with  you  if  you  talk 
such  nonsense.  He  would  not  dare  to  do  such  a  thing — why, 
the  absurdity  of  it  I  And  I  am  not  at  all  well  disposed 
towards  Mr.  Trelyon  at  this  moment." 

"  I  don't  see  why  he  shouldn't,"  said  her  sister  humbly, 
and  yet  with  a  little  inadvertant  toss  of  the  head ;  "  every 
one  knows  you  are  pretty  except  yourself,  and  there  can  be 
no  harm  in  a  young  man  telling  you  so.  He  is  not  a  greater 
fool  than  anybody  else.  He  has  got  eyes.  He  knows  that 
every  one  is  in  love  with  you — every  one  that  is  now  in 
Eglosilyan,  anyway.  He  is  a  very  gentlemanly  young  man. 
He  is  a  great  friend  to  you.  I  don't  see  why  you  should 
treat  him  so." 

Mabyn  began  to  move  about  the  room,  as  she  generally 
did  when  she  was  a  trifle  excited  and  indignant,  and  inclined 
to  tears. 

"  There  is  no  one  thinks  so  highly  of  you  as  he  does.  He 
is  more  respectful  to  you  than  to  all  the  people  in  the  world. 
I  think  it  is  very  hard  and  unkind  of  you." 

"  But,  Mabyn,  what  have  I  done  ?  "  her  sister  said. 

"  You  won't  believe  he  sent  you  that  piece  of  None-so-pretty. 
You  won't  take  the  least  notice  of  his  friendliness  to  you. 
You  said  you  were  vexed  with  him." 

"  Well,  I  have  reason  to  be  vexed  with  him,"  Wenna  said, 
and  would  willingly  have  left  the  matter  there. 

But  her  sister  was  not  to  be  put  off.  She  coaxed  for  a  few 
minutes,  then  became  petulant,  and  affected  to  be  deeply 
hurt;  then  assumed  an  air  of  authority,  and  said  that  she  in- 
sisted on  being  told.  Then  the  whole  truth  came  out.  Mr. 
Trelyon  had  been  lending  Mr.  Roscorla  a  sum  of  money 
which  he  had  no  business  to  lend.  Mr.  Trelyon  had  some- 
how mixed  her  up  with  the  matter,  under  the  impression  that 
he  was  conferring  a  service  on  her.  Mr.  Trelyon  had  con- 
cealed the  whole  transaction  from  her,  and,  of  course,  Mr. 
Roscorla  was  silent  also.  And  on  the  face  of  it  Mr.  Trelyon 
was  responsible  for  Mr.  Roscorla  going  away  from  his  na- 
tive land  to  face  all  manner  of  perils,  discomforts,  and 
anxieties ;  for  without  that  fatal  sum  of  money  he  might  still 
have  been  living  in  peace  and  contentment  up  at  Basset 
Cottage. 


j 26  THREE  FEATHERS. 

"Well,  Wenna,"  said  the  younger  sister  candidly,  and  with 
a  resigned  air,  "  I  never  knew  you  so  unreasonable  before. 
All  you  seem  able  to  do  is  to  invent  reasons  for  disliking 
Mr.  Trelyon,  and  I  have  no  doubt  you  used  him  shamefully 
when  you  saw  him  this  forenoon.  You  are  all  love  and  kind- 
ness to  people  who  have  no  claim  on  you — to  brats  in  cottages 
and  old  women — but  you  are  very  hard  on  people  who — 
who  respect  you.  And  then/'  added  Miss  Mabyn,  drawing 
herself  up,  "  if  I  were  to  tell  you  how  the  story  of  that  money 
strikes  me,  would  it  surprise  you  ?  Who  asked  Mr.  Roscorla 
to  have  the  money  and  go  away  ?  Not  Mr.  Trelyon,  I  am 
sure.  Who  concealed  it  ?  Whose  place  was  it  to  come  and 
tell  you — you  who  are  engaged  to  him  ?  If  it  comes  to  that, 
I'll  tell  you  what  I  believe,  and  that  is  that  Mr.  Roscorla  went 
and  made  use  of  the  regard  that  Harry  Trelyon  has  for  you 
to  get  the  money.     There  !•" 

Mabyn  uttered  the  last  words  with  an  air  which  said,  "I 
will  speak  out  this  time,  if  I  die  for  it."  But  the  effect  on  her 
sister  was  strange.  Of  course,  she  expected  Wenna  to  rise 
up  indignantly  and  protest  against  her  speaking  of  Mr.  Ros- 
corla in  such  a  way.  She  was  ready  to  brave  her  wrath. 
She  fully  thought  they  were  entering  on  the  deadliest  quarrel 
that  had  ever  occurred  between  them. 

But  whether  it  was  that  Wenna  was  too  much  grieved  to 
care  what  her  sister  said,  or  whether  it  was  that  these  frank 
accusations  touched  some  secret  consciousness  in  her  own 
heart,  the  elder  sister  remained  strangely  silent,  her  eyes  cast 
down.  Mabyn  looked  at  her,  wondering  why  she  did  not  get 
up  in  a  rage :  Wenna  was  stealthily  crying.  And  then,  of 
course,  the  younger  sister's  arms  were  around  her  in  a  minute 
and  there  was  a  great  deal  of  soothing  and  tender  phrases ; 
and  finally  Mabyn,  not  knowing  otherwise  how  to  atone  for 
her  indiscretion,  pulled  out  Mr.  Roscorla's  letter,  put  it  in 
Wenna's  hand,  and  went  away. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE    FIRST   MESSAGE    HOME. 


Wenna  was  glad  to  have  the  letter  at  that  moment.  She 
had  been  distracted  by  all  this  affair  of  the  money ;  she  had 
been  troubled  and  angry — with  whom  she  could  scarcely  tell ; 
but  here  was  something  that  recalled  her  to  a  sense  of  her 


THE  FIRST  MESSAGE  HOME.  127 

duty.  She  opened  it,  resolved  to  accept  its  counsels  and 
commands  with  all  due  meekness.  For  such  kindness  as  he 
might  choose  to  show  she  would  be  grateful,  and  she  would 
go  back  to  her  ordinary  work  more  composed  and  cheerful, 
knowing  that,  whatever  business  affairs  Mr.  Roscorla  might 
transact,  her  concern  was  only  to  remain  loyal  to  the  promises 
she  had  made,  and  to  the  trust  which  he  reposed  in  her. 

And  the  letter  was  in  reality  a  kind  and  friendly  letter, 
written  with  a  sort  of  good-humor  that  did  not  wholly  conceal 
a  certain  pathetic  consciousness  of  distance  and  loneliness. 
It  gave  her  a  brief  description  of  the  voyage  ;  of  the  look  of 
the  place  at  which  he  landed  :  of  his  meeting  with  his  friends ; 
and  then  of  the  manner  in  which  he  would  have  to  spend  his 
time  while  he  remained  in  the  island. 

"  My  head  is  rather  in  a  whirl  as  yet,"  he  wrote,  "  and  I 
can't  sit  down  and  look  at  the  simple  facts  of  the  case — that 
every  one  knows  how  brief  and  ordinary  and  commonplace  a 
thing  a  voyage  from  England  to  the  West  Indies  is  ;  and  how, 
looking  at  a  map,  I  should  consider  myself  as  only  having 
run  out  here  for  a  little  trip.  At  present  my  memory  is  full 
of  the  long  nights  and  of  the  early  mornings,  and  of  the  im- 
measurable seas  that  we  were  always  leaving  behind,  so  that 
now  I  feel  as  if  England  were  away  in  some  other  planet  al- 
together, that  I  should  never  return  to.  It  seems  years  since 
I  left  you  at  Launceston  station  :  when  I  look  back  to  it  I  look 
through  long  days  and  nights  of  water,  and  nothing  but  water, 
and  it  seems  as  if  it  must  be  years  and  years  before  I  could 
see  an  English  harbor  again,  all  masts  and  smoke  and  hurry, 
with  posters  upon  the  walls  and  cabs  in  the  streets,  and  some- 
where or  other  a  railway-station  where  you  know  you  can  take 
your  ticket  for  Cornwall,  and  get  into  your  old  ways  again.- 
But  I  am  not  going  to  give  way  to  homesickness  ;  indeed,  my 
dear  VVenna,  you  need  not  fear  that,  for,  from  all  I  can  make 
out,  I  shall  have  plenty  to  look  after,  and  quite  enough  to 
keep  me  from  mooning  and  dreaming.  Of  course  I  cannot 
tell  you  yet  how  things  are  likely  to  turn  out,  but  the  people 
I  have  seen  this  morning  are  hopeful ;  and  I  am  inclined  to 
be  hopeful  myself,  perhaps  because  the  voyage  has  agreed 
with  me  very  well,  and  has  wonderfully  improved  my  spirits. 
So  I  mean  to  set  to  work  in  good  earnest,  with  the  assurance 
that  you  are  not  indifferent  to  the  results  of  it ;  and  then 
some  day,  when  we  are  both  enjoying  these,  you  won't  be 
sorry  that  I  went  away  from  you  for  a  time.  Already  I  have 
been  speculating  on  all  that  we  might  do  if  this  venture  turns 
out  well,  fcr  of  course  there  is  no  necessity  why  you  should 


128  THREE  FEATHERS. 

be  mewed  up  in  Eglosilyan  all  your  Hfe,  instead  of  feeling  the 
enjoyment  of  change  of  scene  and  of  interests.  These  are 
castles  in  the  air,  you  will  say,  but  they  naturally  arise  in  the 
mind  when  you  are  in  buoyant  health  and  spirits  ;  and  I  hope, 
if  I  return  to  England  in  the  same  mood,  you  will  become  in- 
fected with  my  confidence,  and  add  some  gayety  to  the  quiet 
serenity  of  your  life." 

Wenna  rather  hurried  over  this  passage ;  the  notion  that 
she  might  be  enabled  to  play  the  part  of  a  fine  lady  by  means 
of  the  money  which  Harry  Trelyon  had  lent  to  her  betrothed 
was  not  grateful  to  her. 

"  I  wish,  "  the  letter  continued,  "  that  you  had  been  looking 
less  grave  when  you  had  your  portrait  taken.  Many  a  time, 
on  the  voyage  out,  I  used  to  fix  my  eyes  on  your  portrait, 
and  try  to  imagine  I  was  looking  at  it  in  my  own  room  at 
home,  and  that  you  were  half  a  mile  or  so  away  from  me, 
down  at  the  inn  in  the  valley.  But  these  efforts  were  not 
successful,  I  must  own  ;  for  there  was  not  much  of  the  quiet 
of  Eglosilyan  around  you  when  the  men  were  tramping  on  the 
deck  overhead,  and  the  water  hissing  outside,  and  the  engines 
throbbing.  And  when  I  used  to  take  out  your  photograph  on 
deck,  in  some  quiet  corner,  I  used  to  say  to  myself,  '  Now  I 
shall  see  Wenna  just  as  she  is  to-day,  and  I  shall  know  she 
has  gone  in  to  have  a  chat  with  the  miller's  children  ;  or  she 
is  reading  out  at  the  edge  of  Black  Cliff  ;  or  she  is  contented- 
ly sewing  in  her  little  parlor/  Well,  to  tell  you  the  truth, 
WTenna,  I  got  vexed  with  your  photograph  ;  I  never  did  think 
it  was  very  good — now  I  consider  it  bad.  Why,  I  think  of 
you  as  I  have  seen  you  running  about  the  cliffs  with  Mabyn, 
or  romping  with  small  children  at  home,  and  I  see  your  face 
all  light  and  laughter,  and  your  tongue  just  a  little  too  ready 
to  say  saucy  things  when  an  old  fogy  like  myself  would  have 
liked  you  to  take  care  ;  but  here  it  is  always  the  same  face — 
sad,  serious,  and  preoccupied.  What  were  you  thinking  of 
when  it  was  taken?  I  suppose  some  of  your  proteges  in  the 
village  had  got  into  mischief." 

"  Wenna,  are  you  here  ?  "  said  her  father,  opening  the  door 
of  her  room.  "  Why  didn't  Mabyn  tell  me  ?  And  a  nice 
thing  you've  let  us  in  for,  by  getting  young  Annot  to  start 
that  business  of  going  to  Devonport.  He's  gone  to  Tregear 
now." 

"  I  know,"  said  Wenna,  calmly. 

"  You  know  ?  And  don't  you  know  what  an  inconvenience 
it  will  be  to  us  ;  for  of  course  your  mother  can't  look  after 


THE  FIRST  MESSAGE  HOME.  129 

these  things,  and  she'll  expect  me  to  go  and  buy  poultry  and 
eggs  for  her." 

"Oh  no,"  Wenna  said,  "all  that  is  arranged.  I  settled  it 
both  with  the  Annots  and  the  Tregear  folks  six  weeks  ago. 
We  are  to  have  whatever  we  want  just  as  hitherto,  and  Han- 
nabel  Annot  will  take  the  rest." 

"  I  want  you  to  write  some  letters,'  said  Mr.  Rosewarne, 
disappointed  of  his  grumble. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Wenna  ;  and  she  rose  and  followed  her 
father. 

They  were  met  in  the  passage  by  Mabyn. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  Wenna  ?  " 

"  She  is  going  to  write  some  letters  for  me,"  said  her  father, 
impatient  of  interference.     "  Get  out  of  the  way,  Mab." 

"  Have  you  read  that  letter,  Wenna  ?  No,  you  haven't. 
Why,  father,  don't  you  know  she's  got  a  letter  from  Mr.  Ros- 
corla,  and  you  haven't  given  her  time  to  read  it  ?  She  must 
go  back  instantly.  Your  letters  can  wait — or  I'll  write  them. 
Come  along,  Wenna." 

Wenna  laughed,  and  stood  uncertain.  Her  father  frowned 
at  first,  but  thought  better  of  what  he  was  about  to  say,  and 
only  remarked,  as  he  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  passed 
on — 

"  Some  day  or  other,  my  young  lady,  I  shall  have  to  cuff 
your  ears.  Your  temper  is  getting  to  be  just  a  little  too  much 
for  me,  and  as  for  the  man  who  may  marry  you,  God  help 
him !  " 

Mabyn  carried  her  sister  back  in  triumph  to  her  own  room, 
went  inside  with  her,  locked  the  door,  and  sat  down  by  the 
window. 

"  I  shall  wait  until  you  have  finished,"  she  said ;  and 
Wenna,  who  was  a  little  surprised  that  Mabyn  should  have 
been  so  anxious  about  the  reading  of  a  letter  from  Mr. 
Roscorla,  took  out  the  document  again,  and  opened  it,  and 
continued  her  perusal. 

"  And  now,  Wenna,"  the  letter  ran,  "  I  must  finish ;  for 
there  are  two  gentlemen  coming  to  call  on  me  directly. 
Somehow  I  feel  as  I  felt  on  sending  you  the  first  letter  I  ever 
sent  you — that  I  have  said  nothing  of  what  I  should  like  to 
say.  You  might  think  me  anxious,  morbid,  unreasonable,  if 
I  told  you  all  the  things  that  have  occupied  my  mind  of  late 
with  regard  to  you ;  and  yet  sometimes  a  little  restlessness 
creeps  in  that  I  can't  quite  get  rid  of.  It  is  through  no 
want  of  trust  in  you,  my  dear  Wenna — I  know  your  sincerity 
and  high  principle  too  well  for  that.     To  put  the  matter 


130  THREE  FEATHERS. 

bluntly,  I  know  you  will  keep  faith  with  me  ;  and  that  when 
I  get  back  to  England,  in  good  luck  or  in  ill  luck,  you  Will 
be  there  to  meet  me,  and  ready  to  share  in  whatever  fate 
fortune  may  have  brought  us  both.  But  sometimes,  to  tell 
you  the  truth,  I  begin  to  think  of  your  isolated  position  ; 
and  of  the  possibility  of  your  having  doubts  which  you  can't 
express  to  any  one,  and  which  I,  being  so  far  away  from  you, 
cannot  attempt  to  remove.  I  know  how  the  heart  may  be 
troubled  in  absence — mistaking  its  own  sensations,  and 
fancying  that  what  is  in  reality  a  longing  to  see  some  one  is 
the  beginning  of  some  vague  dissatisfaction  with  the  relations 
existing  between  you.  Think  of  that,  dear  Wenna.  If  you 
are  troubled  or  doubtful,  put  it  down  to  the  fact  that  I  am 
not  with  you  to  give  you  courage  and  hope.  A  girl  is 
indeed  to  be  pitied  at  such  a  time  :  she  hesitates  to  confess 
to  herself  that  she  has  doubts  ;  and  she  is  ashamed  to  ask 
counsel  from  her  relatives.  Happily,  however,  you  have 
multifarious  duties  which  will  in  great  measure  keep  you 
from  brooding  ;  and  I  hope  you  will  remember  your  promise 
to  give  me  a  full,  true,  and  particular  account  of  all  that  is 
happening  in  Eglosilyan.  You  can't  tell  how  interesting  the 
merest  trifles  will  be  to  me.  They  will  help  me  to  make 
pictures  of  you  and  all  your  surroundings ;  and  already,  at 
this  great  distance,  I  seem  to  feel  the  need  of  some  such  spur 
to  the  imagination.  As  I  say,  I  cannot  appeal  to  your  portrait 
— there  is  no  life  in  it ;  but  there  is  life  in  my  mental  portrait 
of  you — life  and  happiness,  and  even  the  sound  of  your  laugh- 
ing. Tell  me  all  about  Mabyn,  who,  I  think,  is  rather  jealous 
of  me — of  your  mother  and  father,  and  Jennifer,  and  every- 
body. Have  you  any  people  staying  at  the  inn  yet ,  or  only 
chance-comers  ?  Have  the  Trelyons  returned  ? — and  has  that 
wild  school-boy  succeeded  yet  in  riding  his  horse  over  a  cliff  ? " 

And  so,  with  some  few  affectionate  phrases,  the  letter 
ended. 

"  Well  ? "  said  Mabyn,  coming  back  from  the  window. 

"  Yes,  he  is  quite  well,"  Wenna  said,  with  her  eyes  grown 
distant,  as  though  she  were  looking  at  some  of  the  scenes  he 
had  been  describing. 

"  I  did  not  ask  if  he  was  well,"  Mabyn  said.  "  I  asked 
what  you  thought  of  the  letter.  Does  he  say  anything  about 
the  borrowing  of  that  money  ?  " 

"  No,  he  does  not." 

"  Very  well,  then,"  Mabyn  sdd,  sharply.  "  And  you 
blame  Mr.  Trelyon  for  not  telling  you.  Does  a  gentleman 
tell  anybody  when  he  lends  money  ?     No  ;  but  a  gentleman 


THE  FIRS  T  MESS  A  GE  HOME.  1 3 1 

might  have  told  you  that  he  had  borrowed  money  from  a 
friend  of  yours,  who  lent  it  because  of  you.  But  there's 
nothing  of  that  in  the  letter — of  course  not — only  appeals  to 
high  moral  principles,  I  suppose,  and  a  sort  of  going  down 
on  his  knees  to  you  that  you  mayn't  withdraw  from  a  bargain 
he  swindled  you  into — " 

"  Mabyn,  I  won't  hear  another  word  !  This  is  really  most 
insolent.  You  may  say  of  me  what  you  please ;  but  it  is 
most  cruel — it  is  most  unworthy  of  you,  Mabyn — to  say  such 
things  of  any  one  who  cannot  defend  himself.  And  I  won't 
listen  to  them,  Mabyn — let  me  say  that  once  and  for  all." 

"  Very  well,  Wenna,"  the  youngest  sister  said,  with  two 
big  tears  rising  to  her  eyes  as  she  rose  and  went  to  the  door. 
"  You  can  quarrel  with  me  if  you  please — but  I've  told  you 
the  truth — and  there's  those  who  love  you  too  well  to  see 
you  made  unhappy;  but  I  suppose  I  am  to  say  nothing 
more — " 

And  she  went ;  and  Wenna  sat  down  by  the  window, 
thinking,  with  a  sigh,  that  it  seemed  her  fate  to  make  every- 
body miserable.  She  sat  there  for  a  long  time  with  the 
letter  in  her  hand ;  and  sometimes  she  looked  at  it ;  but  did 
not  care  to  read  it  over  again.  The  knowledge  that  she  had 
it  was  something  of  a  relief ;  she  would  use  it  as  a  talisman 
to  dispel  doubts  and  cares  when  these  came  into  her  mind ; 
but  she  would  wait  until  the  necessity  arose.  She  had  one 
long  and  argumentative  letter  to  which  she  in  secret  resorted 
whenever  she  wished  to  have  the  assurance  that  her  accept- 
ance of  Mr.  Roscorla  had  been  a  right  thing  to  do  ;  here  was 
a  letter  which  would  exorcise  all  anxious  surmises  as  to  the 
future  which  might  creep  in  upon  her  during  the  wakeful 
hours  of  the  night.  She  would  put  them  both  carefully  into 
her  drawer,  even  as  she  put  a  bit  of  camphor  there  to  keep 
away  moths. 

So  she  rose,  with  saddened  eyes,  and  yet  with  something 
of  a  lighter  heart ;  and  in  passing  by  the  side-table  she 
stopped — perhaps  by  inadvertence — to  look  at  the  basket  of 
primroses  which  Harry  Trelyon  had  sent  her.  She  seemed 
surprised.  Apparently  missing  something,  she  looked 
around  and  on  the  floor,  to  see  that  it  had  not  fallen  ;  and 
then  she  said  to  herself,  "  I  suppose  Mabyn  has  taken  it  for 
her  hair." 


I32  THREE  FEATHERS. 

CHAPTER  XX. 

tintagel's  walls. 

What  was  the  matter  with  Harry  Trelyon  ?  His  mother 
could  not  make  out,  and  there  never  had  been  much  confi- 
dence between  them,  so  that  she  did  not  care  to  ask.  But 
she  watched  ;  and  she  saw  that  he  had,  for  the  time  at  least, 
forsaken  his  accustomed  haunts  and  ways,  and  become 
gloomy,  silent,  and  self-possessed.  Dick  was  left  neglected 
in  the  stables  ;  you  no  longer  heard  his  rapid  clatter  along 
the  highway,  with  the  not  over-melodious  voice  of  his  master 
singing  "The  Men  of  Merry,  Merry  England"  or  "The 
Young  Chevalier."  The  long  and  slender  fishing-rod  re- 
mained on  the  pegs  in  the  hall,  although  you  could  hear  the 
flop  of  the  small  burn-trout  of  an  evening  when  the  flies  were 
thick  over  the  stream.  The  dogs  were  deprived  of  their  ac- 
customed runs  ;  the  horses  had  to  be  taken  out  for  exercise 
by  the  groom  ;  and  the  various  and  innumerable  animals 
about  the  place  missed  their  doses  of  alternate  petting  and 
teasing,  all  because  Master  Harry  had  chosen  to  shut  himself 
up  in  his  study. 

The  mother  of  the  young  man  very  soon  discovered  that 
her  son  was.  not  devoting  his  hours  of  seclusion  in  that  ex- 
traordinary museum  of  natural  history  to  making  trout-flies, 
stuffing  birds,  and  arranging  pinned  butterflies  in  cases,  as 
was  his  custom.  These  were  not  the  occupations  which  now 
kept  Trelyon  up  half  the  night.  When  she  went  in  of  a 
morning  before  he  was  up,  she  found  that  he  had  been  cov- 
ering whole  sheets  of  paper  with  careful  copying  out  of  pas- 
sages taken  at  random  from  the  volumes  beside  him.  A 
Latin  Grammar  was  ordinarily  on  the  /table — a  book  which 
the  young  gentleman  had  brought  back  from  school  pretty 
well  free  from  thumb-marks  Occasionally  a  fencing-foil  lay 
among  these  evidences  of  study;  while  the  small  aquaria, 
the  cases  of  stuffed  animals  with  fancy  backgrounds,  and  the 
numerous  birdcages  had  been  thrust  aside  to  give  fair  elbow- 
room.  "  Perhaps,"  said  Mrs.  Trelyon  to  herself,  with  much 
satisfaction — "  perhaps,  after  all,  that  good  little  girl  has 
given  him  a  hint  about  Parliament,  and  he  is  preparing  him- 
self." 

A  few  days  of  this  seclusion,  however,  began  to  make  the 
mother  anxious  ;  and  so,  one  morning,  she  went  into  his 
room.     He  hastily  turned  over  the  sheet  of  paper  on  which 


TINT  A  GEL'S  WALLS. 


*33 


he  had  been  writing ;  then  he  looked  up,  not  too  well 
pleased. 

•'Harry,  why  do  you  stay  indoors  on  such  a  beautiful 
morning  ?     It  is  quite  like  summer." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  he  said  indifferently ;  "  I  suppose  we  shall 
soon  have  a  batch  of  parsons  here  :  summer  always  brings 
them.     They  come  out  with  hot  weather — like  bluebottles." 

Mrs.  Trelyon  was  disappointed  ;  she  thought  Wenna  Rose- 
warne  had  cured  him  of  his  insane  dislike  to  clergymen — in- 
deed, for  many  a  day  gone  by  he  had  kept  respectfully  silent 
on  the  subject. 

"  But  we  shall  not  ask  them  to  come  if  you'd  rather  not," 
she  said,  wishing  to  do  all  she  could  to  encourage  the  reform- 
ation of  his  ways.  "  I  think  Mr.  Barnes  promised  to  visit  us 
early  in  May  ;  but  he  is  only  one." 

M  And  one  is  worse  than  a  dozen.  When  there's  a  lot  you 
can  leave  'em  to  fight  it  out  among  themselves.  But  one — 
to  have  one  stalking  about  an  empty  house,  like  a  ghost 
dipped  in  ink  !  Why  can't  you  ask  anybody  but  clergymen, 
mother  r  There  are  whole  lots  of  people  would  like  to  run 
down  to  Cornwall  for  a  fortnight  before  getting  into  the  thick 
of  the  season — there's  the  Pomeroy  girls  as  good  as  offered 
to  come." 

"  But  they  can't  come  by  themselves,"  Mrs,  Trelyon  said 
with  a  feeble  protest. 

"  Oh  yes,  they  can  ;  they're  ugly  enough  to  be  safe  any- 
where. And  why  don't  you  get  Juliott  up  ?  She'll  be  glad 
to  get  away  from  that  old  curmudgeon  for  a  week.  And  you 
ought  to  ask  the  Trewhellas,  mother  and  daughter,  to  dinner 
— that  old  fellow  is  not  half  a  bad  sort  of  fellow,  although 
he's  a  clergyman." 

"  Harry,"  said  his  mother,  interrupting  him,  "  I'll  fill  the 
house,  if  that  will  please  you  ;  and  you  shall  ask  whomsoever 
you  please." 

"  All  right,"  said  he  ;  "  the  place  wants  waking  up." 

"  And  then,"  said  the^nother,  wishing  to  be  still  more  gra- 
cious, "  you  might  ask  Miss  Rosewarne  to  dine  with  us — she 
might  come  well  enough,  although  Mr.  Roscorla  is  not 
here." 

A  sort  of  gloom  fell  over  the  young  man's  face  again. 

;'  I  can't  ask  her ;  you  may  if  you  like." 

Mrs.  Trelyon  stared.  "  What's  the  matter,  Harry  ?  Have 
you  and  she  quarrelled  ?  Why,  I  was  going  to  ask  you,  if 
you  were  down  in  the  village  to-day,  to  say  that  I  should  like 
to  see  her." 


34 


THREE  FEATHERS. 


"  And  how  could  I  take  such  a  message  ?  "  the  young  man 
said,  rather  warmly.  "  I  don't  see  why  the  girl  should  be  or- 
dered up  to  see  you  as  if  you  were  conferring  a  favor  on  her 
by  joining  in  this  scheme.  She's  very  hard-worked ;  you 
have  got  plenty  of  time  ;  you  ought  to  call  on  her,  and  study 
her  convenience,  instead  of  making  her  trot  all  the  way  up 
here  whenever  you  want  to  talk  to  her." 

The  pale  and  gentle  woman  was  anxious  not  to  give  way 
to  petulance  just  then. 

"  Well  you  are  quite  right,  Harry  ;  it  was  thoughtless  of 
me.  I  should  like  to  go  down  and  see  her  this  morning;  but 
I  have  sent  Jakes  over  to  the  blacksmith's,  and  I  am  afraid 
of  that  new  lad." 

"  Oh,  I  will  drive  you  down  to  the"  inn.  I  suppose  among 
them  they  can  put  the  horses  to  the  wagonette,"  the  young 
man  said  ;  and  then  Mrs.  Trelyon  went  off  to  get  ready. 

It  was  a  beautiful,  fresh  morning ;  the  far-off  line  of  the 
sea  still  and  blue  ;  the  sunlight  lighting  up  the  wonderful 
masses  of  primroses  along  the  tall  banks  ;  the  air  sweet  with 
the  resinous  odor  of  the  gorse.  Mrs.  Trelyon  looked  with  a 
gentle  and  childlike  pleasure  on  all  these  things,  and  was 
fairly  inclined  to  be  very  friendly  with  the  young  gentleman 
beside  her.  But  he  was  more  than  ordinarily  silent  and  mo- 
rose. 

He  spoke  scarcely  a  word  to  her  as  the  carriage  rolled 
along  the  silent  highways.  He  drove  rapicHy  and  carelessly 
down  the  steep  thoroughfare  of  Eglosilyan,  although  there 
were  plenty  of  loose  stones  about.  Then  he  pulled  sharply 
up  in  front  of  the  inn  ;  and  George  Rosewarne  appeared. 

"  Mr.  Rosewarne,  let  me  introduce  you  to  my  mother.  She 
wants  to  see  Miss  Wenna  for  a  few  moments,  if  she  is  not  en- 
gaged." 

Mr.  Rosewarne  took  off  his  cap,  assisted  Mrs.  Trelyon  to 
alight,  and  then  showed  her  the  way  into  the  house. 

"  Won't  you  come  in,  Harry  ?  "  his  mother  said. 

"  No." 

A  man  had  come  out  to  the  horses'  heads. 

"  You  leave  'em  alone,"  said  the  young  gentleman.  "  I 
sha'n't  get  down." 

Mabyn  came  out,  her  bright  young  face  full  of  pleasure. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mabyn  ?  "  he  said  coldly,  and  without 
offering  to  shake  hands. 

"  Won't  you  come  in  for  a  minute  ?  "  she  said  rather  sur- 
prised. 


TIN  TAG  EL'S  WALLS.  135 

"  No,  thank  you.  Don't  you  stay  out  in  the  cold ;  you've 
got  nothing  round  your  neck.'' 

Mabyn  went  away  without  saying  a  word,  but  thinking  that 
the  coolness  of  the  air  was  much  less  apparent  than  that  of 
his  manner  and  speech. 

Being  at  length  left  to  himself,  he  turned  his  attention  to 
the  horses  before  him,  and  eventually,  to  pass  the  time,  took 
out  his  pocket-handkerchief  and  began  to  polish  the  silver  on 
the  handle  of  the  whip.  He  was  disturbed  in  this  peaceful 
occupation  by  a  very  timid  voice,  which  said,  "  Mr.  Trel- 
yon." 

He  turned  round  and  found  that  Wenna's  wistful  face  was 
looking  up  to  him,  with  a  look  in  it  partly  of  friendly  gladness, 
and  partly  of  anxiety  and  entreaty. 

"  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said,  with  her  eyes  cast  down,  "  I  think 
you  are  offended  with  me.  I  am  very  sorry.  I  beg  your  for- 
giveness." 

The  reins  were  fastened  up  in  a  minute,  and  he  was  down 
in  the  road  beside  her. 

"Now,  look  here,  Wenna,"  he  said.  "What  could  you 
mean  by  treating  me  so  unfairly  ?  I  don't  mean  in  being 
vexed  with  me  ;  but  in  shunting  me  off  as  it  were,  instead  of 
having  it  out  at  once.     I  don't  think  it  was  fair." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  she  said.  "  I  think  I  was  very  wrong; 
but  you  don't  know  what  a  girl  feels  about  such  things. 
Will  you  come  into  the  inn  ?  " 

"  And  leave  my  horses  ?  No,"  he  said,  good-naturedly. 
"  But  as  soon  as  I  get  that  fellow  out,  I  will ;  so  you  go  in 
at  once,  and  I'll  follow  you  directly.  And  mind,  Wenna, 
don't  you  be  so  silly  again,  or  you  and  I  may  have  a  real 
quarrel.     And  I  know  that  would  break  your  heart." 

The  old  pleased  smile  lit  up  her  face  again  as  she  turned 
and  went  indoors ;  he,  meanwhile,  proceeded  to  summon  an 
hostler  by  shouting  his  name  at  the  pitch  of  his  voice. 

The  small  party  of  women  assembled  in  the  parlor  were  a 
trifle  embarrassed  :  it  was  the  first  time  that  the  great  lady  of 
the  neighborhood  had  honored  the  inn  with  a  visit.  She 
herself  was  merely  quiet,  gentle,  and  pleased ;  but  Mrs. 
Rosewarne,  with  her  fine  eyes  and  sensitive  face  lit  up  and 
quickened  by  the  novel  excitement,  was  all  anxiety  to  amuse 
and  interest  and  propitiate  her  distinguished  guest.  Mabyn, 
too,  was  rather  shy  and  embarrassed ;  she  said  things  has- 
tily, and  then  seemed  afraid  of  her  interference.  Wenna 
was  scarcely  at  her  ease,  because  she  saw  that  her  mother 
and  sister  were  not ;  and  she  was  very  anxious,  moreover, 


136  THREE  FEATHERS. 

that  these  two  should  think  well  of  Mrs.  Trelyon  and  be 
disposed  to  like  her. 

The  sudden  appearance  of  a  man,  with  a  man's  rough 
ways  and  loud  voice,  seemed  to  shake  these  feminine  ele- 
ments better  together,  and  to  clear  the  air  of  timid  appre- 
hensions and  cautions.  Harry  Trelyon  came  into  the  room 
with  quite  a  marked  freshness  and  good-nature  on  his  face. 
His  mother  was  surprised  :  what  had  completely  changed 
his  manner  in  a  couple  of  minutes  ? 

"  How  are  you,  Mrs.  Rosewarne  ? "  he  cried  in  his  off- 
hand fashion.  "  You  oughtn't  to  be  indoors  on  such  a  morn- 
ing, or  we'll  never  get  you  well,  you  know ;  and  the  doctor 
will  be  sending  you  to  Penzance  or  Devonport  for  a  change. 
— Well,  Mabyn,  have  you  convinced  anybody  yet  that  your 
farm-laborers  with  their  twelve  shillings  a  week  are  better 
off  than  the  slate-workers  with  their  eighteen  ?  You'd  bet- 
ter take  your  sister's  opinion  on  that  point,  and  don't  squab- 
ble with  me. — Mother,  what's  the  use  of  sitting  here  ?  You 
bring  Miss  Wenna  with  you  into  the  wagonette,  and  talk  to 
her  there  about  all  your  business  affairs,  and  I'll  take  you 
for  a  drive.  Come  along !  And,  of  course,  I  want  some- 
body with  me  :  will  you  come,  Mrs.  Rosewarne,  or  will 
Mabyn  ?  You  can't  ? — then  Mabyn  must. — Go  along,  Mabyn, 
and  put  your  best  hat  on,  and  make  yourself  uncommonly 
smart,  and  you  shall  be  allowed  to  sit  next  the  driver — 
that's  me  ! " 

And  indeed  he  bundled  the  whole  of  them  about  until 
they  were  seated  in  the  wagonette  just  as  he  had  indicated ; 
and  away  they  went  from  the  inn-door. 

"  And  you  think  you  are  coming  back  in  half  an  hour  ? " 
he  said  to  his  companion,  who  was  very  pleased  and  very 
proud  to  occupy  such  a  place.  "  Oh  no,  you're  not.  You're 
a  young  and  simple  thing,  Mabyn.  These  two  behind  us 
will  go  on  talking  now  for  any  time  about  yards  of  calico 
and  crochet-needles  and  two-penny  subscriptions ;  while  you 
and  I,  don't  you  see,  are  quietly  driving  them  over  to  Tin- 
tagel — " 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Trelyon  !  "  said  Mabyn. 

"  You  keep  quiet.  That  isn't  the  half  of  what's  going  to 
befall  you.  I  shall  put  up  the  horses  at  the  inn,  and  I 
shall  take  you  all  down  to  the  beach  for  a  scramble  to 
improve  your  appetite ;  and  at  the  said  inn  you  shall  have 
luncheon  with  me,  if  you're  all  very  good  and  behave  your- 
selves. Then  we  shall  drive  back  just  when  we  partic- 
ularly please.     Do  you  like  the  picture  ?  " 


TINT  A  GEL'S    WALLS.  137 

"  It  is  delightful — oh,  I  am  sure  Wenna  will  enjoy  it !  " 
Mabyn  said.  "  But  don't  you  think,  Mr.  Trelyon,  that  you 
might  ask  her  to  sit  here  ?  One  sees  better  here  than  sit- 
ting sideways  in  a  wagonette." 

"  They  have  their  business  affairs  to  settle." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mabyn,  petulantly,  "  that  is  what  every  one 
says  ;  nobody  expects  Wenna  ever  to  have  a  moment's  en- 
joyment to  herself  !  Oh  !  here  is  old  Uncle  Cornish — he's 
a  great  friend  of  Wenna' s — he  will  be  dreadfully  hurt  if  she 
passes  him  without  saying  a  word." 

"  Then  we  must  pull  up  and  address  Uncle  Cornish.  I 
believe  he  used  to  be  the  most  thieving  old  ruffian  of  a 
poacher  in  this  county." 

There  was  a  hale  old  man,  of  seventy  or  so,  seated  on  a 
low  wall  in  front  of  one  of  the  gardens  ;  his  face  shaded 
from  the  sunlight  by  a  broad  hat ;  his  lean  gray  hands  em- 
ployed in  buckling  up  the  leathern  leggings  that  encased  his 
spare  calves.  He  got  up  when  the  horses  stopped,  and 
looked  in  rather  a  dazed  fashion  at  the  carriage. 

"  How  do  you  do  this  morning,  Mr.  Cornish  ?  "  Wenna  said. 

"  Why,  now,  to  be  sure  ! "  the  old  man  said,  as  if  reproaching 
his  own  imperfect  vision.  "  'Tis  a  fine  marnin,  Miss  Wenna, 
and  yii  be  agwoin  for  a  drive." 

"  And  how  is  your  daughter-in-law,  Mr.  Cornish  ?  Has  she 
sold  the  pig  yet  ?  " 

"Naw,  she  hasn't  sold  the  peg.  .If  yii  be  agwoin  thru 
Trevalga,  Miss  Wenna,  just  yii  stop  and  have  a  look  at  that 
peg;  yu'll  be  mazed  to  see  en ;  'tis  many  a  year  agone  sence 
there  has  been  such  a  peg  by  me.  And  perhaps  yii'd  take 
the  laste  bit  o'  refrashment,  Miss  Wenna,  as  yii  go  by ;  Jane 
would  get  yii  a  coop  o'  tay  to  once." 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Cornish,  I'll  look  in  and  see  the  pig 
some  other  time;  to-day  we  sha'n't  be  going  as  far  as 
Trevalga." 

"  Oh,  won't  you  ? "  said  Master  Harry,  in  a  low  voice,  as 
he  drove  on.  "  You'll  be  in  Trevalga  before  you  know  where 
you  are." 

Which  was  literally  the  case.  Wenna  was  so  much  engaged 
in  her  talk  with  Mrs.  Trelyon  that  she  did  not  notice  how  far 
away  they  were  getting  from  Eglosilyan.  But  Mabyn  and 
her  companion  knew.  They  were  now  on  the  high  uplands 
by  the  coast,  driving  between  the  beautiful  banks  which  were 
starred  with  primroses  and  stitchwort  and  red  deadnettle, 
and  a  dozen  other  bright  and  tender-hued  firstlings  of  the 
year.     The  sun  was  warm  on  the  hedges  and  the  fields,  but  a 


138  THREE  FEATHERS. 

cool  breeze  blew  about  these  lofty  heights,  and  stirred  Mabyn's 
splendid  masses  of  hair  as  they  drove  rapidly  along.  Far 
over  on  their  right,  beyond  the  majestic  wall  of  cliff,  lay  the 
great  blue  plain  of  the  sea ;  and  there  stood  the  bold  brown 
masses  of  the  Sisters  Rocks,  with  a  circle  of  white  foam 
around  their  base.  As  they  looked  down  into  the  south,  the 
white  light  was  so  fierce  that  they  could  but  faintly  discern  ob- 
jects through  it ;  but  here  and  there  they  caught  a  glimpse  of 
a  square  church-tower,  or  of  a  few  rude  cottages  clustered  on 
the  high  plain,  and  these  seemed  to  be  of  a  transparent  gray 
in  the  blinding  glare  of  the  sun. 

Then  suddenly  in  front  of  them  they  found  a  deep  chasm, 
with  the  white  road  leading  down  into  its  cool  shadows.  There 
was  the  channel  of  a  stream,  with  the  rocks  looking  purple 
amid  the  gray  bushes ;  and  here  were  rich  meadows,  with 
cattle  standing  deep  in  the  grass  and  the  daisies ;  and  over 
there,  on  the  other  side,  a  strip  of  forest,  with  the  sunlight 
shining  along  one  side  of  the  tall  and  dark  green  pines.  As 
they  drove  down  into  this  place,  which  is  called  the  Rocky 
Valley,  a  magpie  rose  from  one  of  the  fields  and  flew  up  into 
the  firs. 

"  That  is  sorrow,"  said  Mabyn. 

Another  one  rose  and  flew  up  to  the  same  spot. 

"  And  that  is  joy,"  she  said,  with  her  face  brightening. 

"  Oh,  but  I  saw  another  as  we  came  to  the  brow  of  the  hill, 
and  that  means  a  marriage  !  "  her  companion  remarked  to  her. 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  she  said,  quite  eagerly.  "  I  am  sure  there  was 
no  third  one.  I  am  certain  there  were  only  two.  I  am  quite 
positive  we  only  saw  two." 

"  But  why  should  you  be  so  anxious  ? "  Trelyon  said. 
"  You  know  you  ought  to  be  looking  forward  to  a  marriage, 
and  that  is  always  a  happy  thing.    Are  you  envious,  Mabyn  ?  " 

The  girl  was  silent  for  a  moment  or  two.  Then  she  said, 
with  a  sudden  bitterness  in  her  tone — 

"  Isn't  it  a  fearful  thing  to  have  to  be  civil  to  people  whom 
you  hate  ?  Isn't  it? — when  they  come  and  establish  a  claim 
on  you  through  some  one  you  care  for.  You  look  at  them — 
yes,  you  can  look  at  them — and  you've  got  to  see  them  kiss 
some  one  that  you  love ;  and  you  wonder  she  doesn't  rush 
away  for  a  bit  of  caustic  and  cauterize  the  place,  as  you  do 
when  a  mad  dog  bites  you." 

" Mabyn,"  said  the  young  man  beside  her,  "you  are  a 
most  unchristian  sort  of  person  this  morning.  Who  is  it 
whom  you  hate  in  such  a  fashion  ?  Will  you  take  the  reins 
while  I  walk  up  the  hill  ?  " 


TINTAGEVS  WALLS.  139 

Mabyn's  little  burst  of  passion  still  burned  in  her  cheeks, 
and  gave  a  proud  and  angry  look  to  her  mouth ;  but  she  took 
the  reins  all  the  same,  and  her  companion  leaped  to  the 
ground.  The  banks  on  each  side  of  the  road  going  up  this 
hill  were  tall  and  steep ;  here  and  there  great  masses  of  wild 
flowers  were  scattered  among  the  grass  and  the  gorse.  From 
time  to  time  he  stooped  and  picked  up  a  handful ;  until,  when 
they  had  got  up  to  the  high  and  level  country  again,  he  had 
brought  together  a  very  pretty  bouquet  of  wild  blossoms, 
When  he  got  into  his  seat  and  took  the  reins  again,  he  care- 
lessly gave  the  bouquet  to  Mabyn. 

"  Oh,  how  pretty  !  "  she  said  ;  and  then  she  turned  around. 
"  Wenna,  are  you  very  much  engaged  ?  Look  at  the  pretty 
bouquet  Mr.  Trelyon  has  gathered  for  you." 

Wenna's  quiet  face  flushed  with  pleasure  when  she  took 
the  flowers ,  and  Mrs.  Trelyon  looked  pleased,  and  said  they 
were  very  pretty.  She  evidently  thought  that  her  son  was 
greatly  improved  in  his  manners  when  he  condescended  to 
gather  flowers  to  present  to  a  girl.  Nay,  was  he  not  at  this 
moment  devoting  a  whole  forenoon  of  his  precious  time  to  the 
unaccustomed  task  of  taking  ladies  for  a  drive  ?  Mrs.  Trelyon 
regarded  Wenna  with  a  friendly  look,  and  began  to  take  a 
greater  liking  than  ever  to  that  sensitive  and  expressive  face, 
and  to  the  quiet  and  earnest  eyes. 

"  But,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  said  Wenna,  looking  around,  "  hadn't 
we  better  turn  ?     We  shall  be  at  Trevenna  directly." 

"  Yes,  you  are  quite  right,"  said  Master  Harry  ;  "you  will 
be  at  Trevenna  directly,  and  you  are  likely  to  be  there  for 
some  time.  For  Mabyn  and  I  have  resolved  to  have  lunch- 
eon there  ;  and  we  are  going  down  to  Tintagel ;  and  we 
shall  most  likely  climb  to  King  Arthur's  Castle.  Have  you 
any  objection  ?  " 

Wenna  had  none.  The  drive  through  the  cool  and  bright 
day  had  braced  up  her  spirits.  She  was  glad  to  know  that 
everything  looked  promising  about  this  scheme  of  hers.  So 
she  willingly  surrendered  herself  to  the  holiday  ;  and  in  due 
time  they  drove  into  the  odd  and  remote  lijttle  viUage,  and 
pulled  up  in  front  of  the  inn. 

So  soon  as  the  hostler  had  come  to  the  horses'  heads,  the 
young  gentleman  who  had  been  driving  jumped  down  and 
assisted  his  three  companions  to  alight  ;  then  he  led  the  way 
into  the  inn.  In  the  doorway  stood  a  stranger — probably  a 
commercial  traveller — who,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  his 
legs  apart,  and  a  cigar  in  his  mouth,  had  been  visiting  those 
three  ladies  with  a  very  hearty  stare  as  they  got  out  of  the 


t4©  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

carriage.  Moreover,  when  they  came  to  the  doorway  he  did 
not  budge  an  inch,  nor  did  he  take  his  cigar  from  his  mouth ; 
and  so,  as  it  had  never  been  Mr.  Trelyon's  fashion  to  sidle 
past  any  one,  that  young  gentleman  made  straight  for  the 
middle  of  the  passage,  keeping  his  shoulders  very  square. 
The  consequence  was  a  collision.  The  imperturbable  per- 
son with  his  hands  in  his  pockets  was  sent  staggering  against 
the  wall,  while  his  cigar  dropped  on  the  stone. 

"  What  the  devil —  I "  he  was  beginning  to  say,  when  Trel- 
yon  got  the  three  women  past  him  and  into  the  small  parlor; 
then  he  went  back. 

"  Did  you  wish  to  speak  to  me,  sir  ?  No,  you  didn't — I 
perceive  you  are  a  prudent  person.  Next  time  ladies  pass 
you  you'd  better  take  your  cigar  out  of  your  mouth,  or  some- 
body'll  destroy  that  two  pennyworth  of  tobacco  for  you. 
Good-morning." 

Then  he  returned  to  the  little  parlor,  to  v/hich  a  waitress 
had  been  summoned. 

"  Now  Jinny,  pull  yourself  together  and  let's  have  some- 
thing nice  for  luncheon — in  an  hour's  time,  sharp — you  will, 
won't  you  ?  And  how  about  that  Sillery  with  the  blue  star — 
not  the  stuff  with  the  gold  head  that  some  abandoned  ruffian 
in  Plymouth  brews  in  his  back  garden.  Well,  now,  can't 
you  speak  ? 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  bewildered  maid. 

"  That's  a  good  thing — a  very  good  thing,"  said  he,  putting 
the  shawls  together  on  the  sofa.  "  Don't  you  forget  how  to 
speak  until  you  get  married.  And  don't  let  anybody  come 
into  this  room.  And  you  can  let  my  man  have  his  dinner 
and  a  pint  of  beer — oh  !  I  forgot,  I'm  my  own  man  this 
morning,  so  you  needn't  go  asking  for  him.  Now,  will  you 
remember  all  these  things  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir ;  but  what  would  you  like  for  luncheon  ?  " 
"  My  good  girl,  we  should  like  a  thousand  things  for  lunch- 
eon such  as  Tintagel  never  saw  ,  but  what  you've  got  to  do 
is  to  give  us  the  nicest  things  you've  got ;  do  you  see  ?  I 
leave  it  entirely  in  your  hands.  Come  along,  young  people  !  " 
And  so  he  bundled  his  charges  out  again  into  the  main 
street  of  the  village ;  and  somehow  it  happened  that  Mabyn 
addressed  a  timid  remark  to  Mrs.  Trelyon,  and  that  Mrs. 
Trelyon,  in  answering  it  stopped  for  a  moment;  so  that 
Master  Harry  was  sent  to  Wenna's  side,  and  these  two  led 
the  way  down  the  wide  thoroughfare.  There  were  few  peo- 
ple visible  in  the  old-fashioned  place  ;  here  and  there  an 
aged  crone  came  out  to  the  door  of  one  of  the  rude  stone 


TINTA  GEL'S  WALLS  141 

cottages  to  look  at  the  strangers.  Overhead  the  sky  was 
veiled  with  a  thin  fleece  of  white  cloud ;  but  the  light  was 
intense  for  all  that ;  and,  indeed,  the  colors  of  the  objects 
around  seemed  all  the  more  clear  and  marked. 

"Well,  Miss  Wenna,"  said  the  young  man,  gayly,  "how 
long  are  we  to  remain  friends  ?  What  is  the  next  fault  you 
will  have  to  find  with  me  ?  Or  have  you  discovered  some- 
thing wrong  already  ? " 

"'Oh  no!"  she  said,  with  a  quiet  smile,  "I  am  very  good 
friends  with  you  this  morning.  You  have  pleased  your  mother 
very  much  by  bringing  her  for  this  drive." 

"  Oh,  nonsense ! "  he  said.  "  She  might  have  as  many 
drives  as  she  chose ;  but  presently  you'll  find  a  lot  o'  those 
parsons  back  at  the  house,  and  she'll  take  to  her  white  gowns 
again,  and  the  playing  of  the  organ  all  the  day  long,  and  all 
that  sham  stuff.  I  tell  you  what  it  is  :  she  never  seems  alive 
— she  never  seems  to  take  any  interest  in  anything — unless 
you're  with  her.  Now  you  will  see  how  the  novelty  of  this 
luncheon-party  in  an  inn  will  amuse  her ;  but  do  you  think 
she  would  care  for  it  if  she  and  I  were  here  alone  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  you  never  tried,"  Miss  Wenna  said,  gently. 

"  Perhaps  I  knew  she  wouldn't  come.  However,  don't  let's 
have  a  fight.  I  mean  to  be  very  civil  to  you  to-day — I  do, 
really." 

"  I  am  so  much  obliged  to  you,"  she  said,  meekly.  "  But 
pray  don't  give  yourself  unnecessary  trouble." 

"Oh,"  said  he,  "I'd  always  be  civil  to  you  if  you  would 
treat  me  decently.  But  you  say  far  more  rude  things  than  I 
do — in  that  soft  way,  you  know,  that  looks  as  if  it  were  all 
silk  and  honey.  I  do  think  you've  awfully  little  consideration 
for  human  failings.  If  one  goes  wrong  in  the  least  thing — 
even  in  one's  spelling — you  say  something  that  sounds  as 
pleasant  as  possible,  and  all  the  same  it  transfixes  you  just  as 
you  stick  a  pin  through  a  beetle.  You  are  very  hard,  you  are 
— I  mean  with  those  who  would  like  to  be  friends  with  you. 
When  it's  mere  strangers,  and  cottagers,  and  people  of  that 
sort,  who  don't  care  a  brass  farthing  about  you,  then  I  believe 
you're  all  gentleness  and  kindness ;  but  to  your  real  friends 
— the  edge  of  a  saw  is  smooth  compared  to  you.'* 

"  Am  I  so  very  harsh  to  my  friends  ?  "  the  young  lady  said 
in  a  resigned  way. 

"  Oh,  well ! "  he  said,  with  some  compunction,  "  I  don't 
quite  say  that ;  but  you  could  be  much  more  pleasant  if  you 
liked,  and  a  little  more  charitable  to  their  faults.  You  know 
there  are  some  who  would  give  a  great  deal  to  win  your  ap- 


142 


THREE  FEATHERS. 


proval ;  and  perhaps  when  you  find  fault  they  are  so  disap- 
pointed that  they  think  your  words  are  sharper  than  you 
mean  ;  and  sometimes  they  think  you  might  give  them  credit 
for  trying  to  please  you,  at  least." 

"  And  who  are  these  persons  ?  "  Wenna  asked,  with  another 
smile  stealing  over  her  face. 

"  Oh  !  "  said  he,  rather  shamefacedly,  "  there's  no  need  to 
explain  anything  to  you.  You  always  see  it  before  one  need 
put  it  in  words." 

Well,  perhaps  it  was  in  his  manner,  or  in  the  tone  of  his 
voice,  that  there  was  something  which  seemed  at  this  moment 
to  touch  her  deeply ;  for  she  half  turned,  and  looked  up  at 
his  face  with  her  honest  and  earnest  eyes,  and  said  to  him — 

"Yes,  I  do  know  without  your  telling  me;  and  it  makes 
me  happy  to  hear  you  talk  so ;  and  if  I  am  unjust  to  you,  you 
must  not  think  it  intentional.  And  I  shall  try  not  to  be  so  in 
the  future." 

Mrs.  Trelyon  was  regarding  with  a  kindly  look  the  two 
young  people  walking  in  front  of  her.  Whatever  pleased  her 
son  pleased  her ;  and  she  was  glad  to  see  him  enjoy  himself 
in  so  light-hearted  a  fashion.  These  two  were  chatting  to 
each  other  in  the  friendliest  manner ;  sometimes  they  stopped 
to  pick  up  wild  flowers ;  they  were  as  two  children  together, 
under  the  fair  and  light  summer  skies. 

They  went  down  and  along  a  narrow  valley,  until  they  sud- 
denly stood  in  front  of  the  sea,  the  green  waters  of  which 
were  breaking  in  upon  a  small  and  lonely  creek.  What 
strange  light  was  this  that  fell  from  the  white  skies  above, 
rendering  all  the  objects  around  them  sharp  in  outline  and 
intense  in  color  ?  The  beach  before  them  seemed  of  a  pale 
lilac,  where  the  green  waves  broke  in  a  semicircle  of  white. 
On  their  right  some  masses  of  ruddy  rock  jutted  out  into  the 
cold  sea,  and  there  were  huge  black  caverns  into  which  the 
waves  dashed  and  roared.  On  their  left  and  far  above  them 
towered  a  great  and  isolated  rock,  its  precipitous  sides  scored 
here  and  there  with  twisted  lines  of  red  and  yellow  quartz ; 
and  on  the  summit  of  this  bold  headland,  amid  the  dark  green 
of  the  sea-grass,  they  could  see  the  dusky  ruins— the  crum- 
bling walls  and  doorways  and  battlements — of  the  castle  that 
is  named  in  all  the  stories  of  King  Arthur  and  his  knights. 
The  bridge  across  to  the  mainland  has,  in  the  course  of 
centuries,  fallen  away ;  but  there,  on  the  other  side  of  the 
wide  chasm,  were  the  ruins  of  the  other  portions  of  the  castle, 
scarcely  to  be  distinguished  in  parts  from  the  grass-grown 
rocks.     How  long  ago  was  it  since  Sir  Tristram   rode  out 


TINTAGEVS  WALLS.  1 43 

here  to  the  end  of  the  world,  to  find  the  beautiful  Isoulte 
awaiting  bim — she  whom  he  had  brought  from  Ireland  as  an 
unwilling  bride  to  the  old  King  Mark?  And  what  of  the 
joyous  company  of  knights  and  ladies  who  once  held  high 
sport  in  the  courtyard  there  ?  Trelyon,  looking  shyly  at  his 
companion,  could  see  that  her  eyes  seemed  centuries  away 
from  him.  She  was  quite  unconscious  of  his  covertly  staring 
at  her ;  for  she  was  absently  looking  at  the  high  and  bare 
precipices,  the  deserted  slopes  of  dark  sea-grass,  and  the 
lonely  and  crumbling  ruins.  She  was  wondering  whether  the 
ghosts  of  those  vanished  people  ever  came  back  to  this  deso- 
late headland,  where  they  would  find  the  world  scarcely  al- 
tered since  they  had  left  it.  Did  they  come  at  night,  when 
the  land  was  dark,  and  when  there  was  a  light  over  the  sea 
only  coming  from  the  stars  ?  If  one  were  to  come  at  night 
alone,  and  sit  down  here  by  the  shore,  might  not  one  see 
strange  things  far  overhead,  or  hear  some  sound  other  than 
the  falling  of  the  waves  ? 

"  Miss  Wenna,"  he  said — and  she  started  suddenly — "  are 
you  bold  enough  to  climb  up  to  the  castle  ?  I  know  my 
mother  would  rather  stay  here. ' 

She  went  with  him  mechanically.  She  followed  him  up 
the  rude  steps  cut  in  the  steep  slopes  of  slate,  holding  his 
hand  where  that  was  necessary  ;  but  her  head  was  so  full  of 
dreams  that  she  answered  him  when  he  spoke  only  with  a  vague 
Yes  or  No.  When  they  descended  again,  they  found  that 
Mabyn  had  taken  Mrs.  Trelyon  down  to  the  beach,  and  had 
inveigled  her  into  entering  a  huge  cavern,  or  rather  a  natural 
tunnel,  that  went  right  through  underneath  the  promontory 
on  which  the  castle  is  built.  They  were  in  a  sort  of  green- 
hued  twilight,  a  scent  of  sea-weed  filling  the  damp  air,  and 
their  voices  raising  an  echo  in  the  great  hall  of  rock. 

"  I  hope  the  climbing  has  not  made  you  giddy,"  Mrs.  Trel- 
yon said  in  her  kind  way  to  Wenna,  noticing  that  she  was 
very  silent  and  distraite. 

"  Oh  no  !  "  Mabyn  said  promptly.  "  She  has  been  seeing, 
ghosts.  We  always  know  when  Wenna  has  been  seeing 
ghosts.     She  remains  so  for  hours." 

And,  indeed,  at  this  time  she  was  rather  more  reserved 
than  usual  all  during  their  walk  back  to  luncheon  and  while 
they  were  in  the  inn ;  and  yet  she  was  obviously  very  happy, 
and  sometimes  even  amused  by  the  childlike  pleasure  which 
Mrs.  Trelyon  seemed  to  obtain  from  these  unwonted  expe- 
riences. 

"  Come  nowj  mother,"  Master  Harry  said,  "what  are  you 


I44  THREE  FEATHERS. 

going  to  do  for  me  when  I  come  of  age  next  month  ?  Fill 
the  house  with  guests? — yes,  you  promised  that — with  not 
more  than  one  parson  to  the  dozen.  And  when  they  are  all 
feasting  and  gabbling,  and  missing  the  targets  with  their 
arrows,  you'll  slip  quietly  away,  and  I'll  drive  you  and  Miss 
Wenna  over  here,  and  you'll  go  and  get  your  feet  wet  again 
in  that  cavern,  and  you'll  come  up  here  again,  and  have  an 
elegant  luncheon,  just  like  this.     Won't  that  do  ?  " 

"  I  don't  quite  know  about  the  elegance  of  the  luncheon  ; 
but  I'm  sure  our  little  excursion  has  been  very  pleasant. 
Don't  you  think  so,  Miss  Rosewarne  ? "  Mrs.  Trelyon  said. 

"  Indeed  I  do,"  said  Wenna,  with  her  big  dark  eyes  coming 
back  from  their  trance. 

"And  here  is  another  thing,"  remarked  young  Trelyon. 
"  There's  a  picture  I've  seen  of  the  heir  coming  of  age— he's 
a  horrid,  self-sufficient  young  cad,  but  never  mind— and  it 
seems  to  be  a  day  of  general  jollification.  Can't  I  give  a 
present  to  somebody  ?  Well,  I'm  going  to  give  it  to  a  young 
lady,  who  never  cares  for  anything  but  what  she  can  give  away 
again  to  somebody  else  ;  and  it  is — well  it  is — why  don't  you 
guess,  Mabyn  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  to  give  Wenna,"  said 
Mabyn,  naturally. 

"  Why,  you  silly,  I  mean  to  give  her  a  dozen  sewing-ma- 
chines— a  baker's  dozen — thirteen — there  !  Oh,  I  heard  you 
as  you  came  along.  It  was  all,  ' Three  sewing-machines  will  cost 
so  much,  and  four  sewing-?nachines  will  cost  so  much,  and  five 
sewing-machines  will  cost  so  much.  And  a  penny  a  week  from 
so  many  subscribers  will  be  so  much,  and  twopence  a  week  from 
so  many  will  be  so  much;'  and  all  this  as  if  my  mother 
could  tell  you  how  much  twice  two  was.  My  arithmetic 
ain't  very  brilliant ;  but  as  for  hers —  And  these  you  shall 
have,  Miss  Wenna — one  baker's  dozen  of  sewing-machines,  as 
per  order,  duly  delivered,  carriage  free  ;  empty  casks  and 
bottles  to  be  returned." 

"  That  is  very  kind  of  you,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  Wenna  said — and 
all  the  dreams  had  gone  straight  out  of  her  head  so  soon  as 
this  was  mentioned — "but  we  can't  possibly  accept  them. 
You  know  our  scheme  is  to  make  the  Sewing  Club  quite  self- 
supporting — no  charity." 

"Oh,  what  stuff!"  the  young  gentleman  cried.  "You 
know  you  will  give  all  your  labor  and  supervision  for  noth- 
ing— isn't  that  charity  ?  And  you  know  you  will  let  off  all 
sorts  of  people  owing  you  subscriptions  the  moment  some 
blessed  baby  falls  ill.     And  you  know  you  won't  charge  in- 


CONFESSION.  145 

terest  on  all  the  outlay.  But  if  you  insist  on  paying  me  back 
for  my  sewing-machines  out  of  the  overwhelming  profits  at 
the  end  of  next  year,  then  I'll  take  the  money.  I'm  not  proud." 

"Then  we  will  take  six  sewing-machines  from  you,  if  you 
please,  Mr.  Trelyon,  on  those  conditions,"  said  Wenna, 
gravely.  And  Master  Harry — with  a  look  towards  Mabyn 
which  was  just  about  as  good  as  a  wink — consented. 

As  they  drove  quietly  back  again  to  Eglosilyan,  Mabyn  had 
taken  her  former  place  by  the  driver,  and  found  him  uncom- 
monly thoughtful.  He  answered  her  questions,  but  that  was 
all ;  and  it  was  so  unusual  to  find  Harry  Trelyon  in  this  mood 
that  she  said  to  him — 

"  Mr.  Trelyon,  have  you  been  seeing  ghosts  too  ?  " 

He  turned  to  her  and  said — 

"I  was  thinking  about  something.  Look  here,  Mabyn; 
did  you  ever  know  any  one,  or  do  you  know  any  one,  whose 
face  is  a  sort  of  barometer  to  you  ?  Suppose  that  you  see 
her  look  pale  and  tired,  or  sad  in  any  way,  then  down  go 
your  spirits,  and  you  almost  wish  you  had  never  been  born. 
When  you  see  her  face  brighten  up,  and  get  full  of  healthy 
color,  you  feel  glad  enough  to  burst  out  singing  or  go  mad ; 
anyhow  you  know  that  everything's  all  right.  What  the 
we'ather  is,  what  people  may  say  about  you,  whatever  else 
may  happen  to  you,  that's  nothing — all  you  want  to  see  is 
just  that  one  person's  face  look  perfectly  bright  and  perfectly 
happy,  and  nothing  can  touch  you  then.  Did  you  ever  know 
anybody  like  that  ?  "  he  added,  rather  abruptly. 

"  Oh  yes  !  "  said  Mabyn,  in  a  low  voice  ;  "  that  is  when  you 
are  in  love  with  some  one.  And  there  is  only  one  face  in  all 
the  world  that  I  look  to  for  all  these  things— there  is  only 
one  person  I  know  who  tells  you  openly  and  simply  in  her 
face  all  that  affects  her— and  that  is  our  Wenna.  I  suppose 
you  have  noticed  that,  Mr.  Trelyon  ?  " 

But  he  did  not  make  any  answer. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

CONFESSION. 


The  lad  lay  dreaming  in  the  warm  meadows,  by  the  side  of 
a  small  and  rapid  brook,  the  clear  waters  of  which  plashed 
and  bubbled  in  the  sunlight  as  they  hurried  past  the  brown 
stones.     His  fishing-rod  lay  near  him,  hidden  in    the  long 


146  THREE  FEATHERS. 

grass  and  the  daises.  The  sun  was  hot  in  the  valley — shin- 
ing on  a  wall  of  gray  rock  behind  him,  and  throwing  purple 
shadows  over  the  clefts  ;  shining  on  the  dark  bushes  beside 
the  stream,  and  on  the  lush  green  of  the  meadows ;  shining 
on  the  trees  beyond,  in  the  shadow  of  which  some  dark-red 
cattle  were  standing.  Then  away  on  the  other  side  of  the 
valley  rose  gently  sloping  woods,  gray  and  green  in  the  haze 
of  the  heat ;  and  over  these  again  was  the  pale  blue  sky  with 
scarcely  a  cloud  in  it.  It  was  a  hot  day  to  be  found  in  spring- 
time ;  but  the  waters  of  the  brook  seemed  cool  and  pleasant 
as  they  gurgled  by,  and  occasionally  a  breath  of  wind  blew 
from  over  the  woods.  For  the  rest,  he  lay  so  still  on  this 
fine,  indolent,  dreamy  morning  that  the  birds  around  seemed 
to  take  no  note  of  his  presence  j  and  one  of  the  large  wood- 
peckers, with  his  scarlet  head  and  green  body  brilliant  in  the 
sun,  flew  close  by  him  and  disappeared  into  the  bushes  oppo- 
site, like  a  sudden  gleam  of  color  shot  by  a  diamond. 

"  Next  month,"  he  was  thinking  to  himself,  as  he  lay  with 
his  hands  behind  his  head,  not  caring  to  shade  his  handsome 
and  well-tanned  face  from  the  warm  sun — "  next  month  I  shall 
be  twenty-one,  and  most  folks  will  consider  me  a  man.  Any- 
how, I  don't  know  the  man  whom  I  wouldn't  fight,  or  run,  or 
ride,  or  shoot  against,  for  any  wager  he  liked.  But  of  all  the 
people  who  know  anything  about  me,  just  that  one  whose 
opinion  I  care  for  will  not  consider  me  a  man  at  all,  but  only 
a  boy.  And  that  without  saying  anything.  You  can  tell 
somehow,  by  a  mere  look  what  her  feelings  are ;  and  you 
know  that  what  she  thinks  is  true.  Of  course  it's  true — I  am 
only  a  boy.  What's  the  good  of  me  to  anybody  ?  I  could 
look  after  a  farm — that  is,  I  could  look  after  other  people 
doing  their  work,  but  I  couldn't  do  any  myself.  And  that 
seems  to  me  what  she  is  always  looking  at — what's  the  good 
of  you,  what  are  you  doing,  what  are  you  busy  about  ?  It's 
all  very  well  for  her  to  be  busy,  for  she  can  do  a  hundred 
thousand  things,  and  she  is  always  at  them.  What  can 
I  do  ?  " 

Then  his  wandering  day-dreamings  took  another  turn, 
"  It  was  an  odd  thing  for  Mabyn  to  say,  '  That  is  when 
you  are  in  love  with  some  one*  But  those  girls  take  every- 
thing for  love.  They  don't  know  how  you  can  admire  almost 
to  worshipping  the  goodness  of  a  woman,  and  how  you  are 
anxious  that  she  should  be  well  and  happy,  and  how  you 
would  do  anything  in  the  world  to  please  her,  without  fancy- 
ing straight  away  that  you  are  in  love  with  her,  and  want  to 
marry  her,  and  drive  about  in  the  same  carriage  with  her.     I 


COXFESSIOJV.  147 

shall  be  quite  as  fond  of  Wenna  Rosewarne  when  she  is 
married ;  although  I  shall  hate  that  little  brute  with  his  rum 
and  his  treacle — the  cheek  of  him,  in  asking  her  to  marry 
him,  is  astonishing.  He  is  the  most  hideous  little  beast  that 
could  have  been  picked  out  to  marry  any  woman  ;  but  I  sup- 
poes  he  has  appealed  to  her  compassion,  and  then  she'll  do 
anything.  But  if  there  was  anybody  else  in  love  with  her — if 
she  cared  the  least  bit  about  anybody  else — wouldn't  I  go 
straight  to  her,  and  insist  on  her  shunting  that  fellow  aside  ! 
What  claim  has  he  on  any  other  feeling  of  hers  but  her 
compassion  ?  Why,  if  that  fellow  were  to  come  and  try  to 
frighten  her — and  if  I  were  in  the  affair,  and  if  she  appealed 
to  me  even  by  a  look — then  there  would  be  short  work  with 
something  or  somebody  !  " 

He  got  up  hastily,  with  something  of  an  angry  look  on  his 
face.  He  did  not  notice  that  he  had  startled  all  the  birds 
around  from  out  of  the  bushes.  He  picked  up  his  rod  and 
line  in  a  morose  fashion,  not  seeming  to  care  about  adding  to 
the  half-dozen  small  and  red-speckled  trout  he  had  in  his 
basket. 

While  he  was  thus  irresolutely  standing,  he  caught  sight  of 
a  girl's  figure  coming  rapidly  along  the  valley,  under  the 
shadow  of  some  ash-trees  growing  by  the  stream.  It  was 
Wenna  Rosewarne  herself,  and  she  seemed  to  be  hurrying 
towards  him.  She  was  carrying  some  black  object  in  her 
arms. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Trelyon ! "  she  said,  "  what  am  I  to  do  with  this 
little  dog  ?  I  saw  him  kicking  in  the  road  and  foaming  at 
the  mouth — and  then  he  got  up  and  ran — and  I  took  him — " 

Before  she  had  time  to  say  anything  more  the  young  man 
made  a  sudden  dive  at  the  dog,  caught  hold  of  him,  and 
turned  and  heaved  him  into  the  stream.  He  fell  into  a  little 
pool  of  clear  brown  water  ;  he  spluttered  and  paddled  there 
for  a  second ;  then  he  got  his  footing  and  scrambled  across 
the  stones  up  to  the  opposite  bank,  where  he  began  shaking 
the  water  from  his  coat  among  the  long  grass. 

"  Oh,  how  could  you  be  so  disgracefully  cruel !  "  she  said, 
with  her  face  full  of  indignation. 

"  And  how  could  you  be  so  imprudent  ?  "  he  said,  quite  as 
vehemently.     "  Why,  whose  is  the  dog  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  And  you  catch  up  some  mongrel  little  cur  in  the  middle 
of  the  highway — he  might  have  been  mad — " 

"  I   knew  he  wasn't  mad  !  "  she  said  ;  "  it  was  only  a  fit ; 


148  THREE  FEATHERS. 

and  how  could  you  be  so  cruel  as  to  throw  him  into  the 
river  ? " 

"  Oh  "  said  the  young  man,  coolly,  "  a  dash  of  cold  water  is 
the  best  thing  for  a  dog  when  it  has  a  lit.  Besides,  I  don't 
care  what  he  had,  or  what  I  did  with  him,  so  long  as  you  are  safe. 
Your  little  finger  is  of  more  consequence  than  the  necks  of 
all  the  curs  in  the  country." 

"  Oh  \  it  is  mean  of  you  to  say  that,"  she  retorted,  warmly. 
"  You  have  no  pity  for  those  wretched  little  things  that  are 
at  every  one's  mercy.  If  it  were  a  handsome  and  beautiful 
dog,  now,  you  would  care  for  that ;  or  if  it  were  a  dog  that 
was  killed  in  getting  game  for  you,  you  would  care  for 
that." 

"Yes,  certainly,"  he  said;  "these  are  dogs  that  have 
something  to  recommend  them." 

"  Yes,  and  every  one  is  good  to  them  ;  they  are  not  in  need 
of  your  favor.  But  you  don't  think  of  the  wretched  little 
brutes  that  have  nothing  to  recommend  them — that  only- 
live  on  sufferance — that  every  one  kicks  and  despises  and 
starves." 

"  Well,"  said  he,  with  some  compunction,  "  look  there  ! 
That  new  friend  of  yours — he's  no  great  beauty,  you  must 
confess — is  all  right  now.  The  bath  has  cured  him.  As 
soon  as  he's  done  licking  his  paws,  he'll  be  off  home,  wher- 
ever that  may  be.  But  I've  always  noticed  that  about  you, 
Wenna — you're  always  on  the  side  of  things  that  are  ugly 
and  helpless  and  useless  in  the  world ;  and  you're  not  very 
just  to  those  who  don't  agree  with  you.  For  after  all,  you 
know,  one  wants  time  to  acquire  that  notion  of  yours — that  it 
is  only  weak  and  ill-favored  creatures  that  are  worthy  of  any 
consideration." 

"  Yes","  she  said,  rather  sadly  ;  "  you  want  time  to  learn 
that." 

He  looked  at  her.  Did  she  mean  that  her  sympathy  with 
those  who  were  weak  and  ill-favored  arose  from  some  strange 
consciousness  that  she  herself  was  both  ?  His  cheeks  began 
to  burn  red.  He  had  often  heard  her  hint  something  like 
that ;  and  yet  he  had  never  dared  to  reason  with  her,  or  show 
her  what  he  thought  of  her.     Should  he  do  so  now  ? 

"  Wenna,"  he  said,  blushing  hotly,  "  I  can't  make  you  out 
sometimes.  You  speak  as  if  no  one  cared  for  you.  Now,  if 
I  were  to  tell  you — " 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  so  ungrateful,"  she  said,  hastily.  "  I  know 
that  two  or  three  do — and — and,  Mr.  Trelyon,  do  you  think 


CONFESSION. 


149 


you  could  coax  that  little  dog  over  the  stream  again  ?     You 
see  he  has  come  back  again — he  can't  find  his  way  home." 

Mr.  Trelyon  called  to  the  dog ;  it  came  down  to 'the  brook's 
side,  and  whined  and  shivered  on  the  brink.  "  Do  you  care 
a  brass  farthing  about  the  little  beast  ?  "  he  said  to  Wenna. 
"  I  must  put  him  on  his  way  home,"  she  answered. 
Thereupon  the  young  man  went  straight  through  the  stream 
to  the  other  side,  jumping  the  deeper  portions  of  the  channel ; 
he  caught  up  the  dog,  and  brought  it  back  to  her  ;  and  when 
she  was  very  angry  with  him  for  this  mad  performance,  he 
merely  kicked  some  of  the  water  out  of  his  trousers,  and 
laughed.     Then  a  smile  broke  over  her  face  also. 

"Is  that  an  example  of  what  people  would  do  for  me?" 

she  said,   shyly.      "  Mr.   Trelyon,    you   must  keep  walking 

through  the  warm  grass  till  your  feet   are  dry ;  or  will  you 

come  along  to  the  inn,  and  I  shall  get  you   some  shoes  and 

stockings  ?     Pray  do  ;  and  at  once.     I  am  rather  in  a  hurry." 

"I'll  go  along  with  you,  anyway,"  he  said,  "  and  put  this 

little  brute  into  the  highway.     But  why  are  you  in  a  hurry  ?  " 

"  Because,"  said  Wenna,  as  they  set  out  to  walk  down  the 

valley — "  because  my  mother  and  I  are  going  to  Penzance  the 

day  after  to-morrow,  and  I  have  a  lot  of  things  to  get  ready." 

"  To  Penzance  ?  "  said  he,    with  a  sudden  falling  of  the 

face. 

"  Yes.  She  has  been  dreadfully  out  of  sorts  lately,  and  she 
has  sunk  into  a  kind  of  despondent  state.  The  doctor  says 
she  must  have  a  change — a  holiday,  really,  to  take  her  away 
from  the  cares  of  the  house — " 

"  Why,  Wenna,  it's  you  who  want  the  holiday  ;  it's  you  who 
have  the  cares  of  the  house  !  "  Trelyon  said,  warmly. 

"  And  so  I  have  persuaded  her  to  go  to  Penzance  for  a 
week  or  two,  and  I  go  with  her  to  look  after  her.  Mr.  Trel- 
yon, would  you  be  kind  enough  to  keep  Rock  for  me  until 
we  come  back  ?  I  am  afraid  of  the  servants  neglecting  him." 
"  You  needn't  be  afraid  of  that :  he's  not  one  of  the  ill- 
favored  ;  every  one  will  attend  to  him,"  said  Trelyon  ;  and 
then  he  added,  after  a  minute  or  two  of  silence,  "  The  fact 
is,  I  think. I  shall  be  at  Penzance  also  while  you  are  there. 
My  Cousin  Juliott  is  coming  here  in  about  a  fortnight,  to  cel- 
ebrate the  important  event  of  my  coming  of  age,  and  I  promis- 
ed to  go  for  her.  I  might  as  well  go  now." 
She  said  nothing. 

"  I  might  as  well  go  any  time,"  he  said,  rather  impatiently. 
"  I  haven't  got  anything  to  do.  Do  you  know,  before  you 
came  along.just  now,  I  was  thinking  what  a  very  useful  person 


150  THREE  FEATHERS. 

you  were  in  the  world,  and  what  a  very  useless  person  I  was 
— about  as  useless  as  this  litttle  cur.  I  think  somebody 
should  take  me  up  and  heave  me  into  a  river.  And  I  was 
wondering,  too  " — here  he  became  a  little  more  embarrassed 
and  slow  of  speech — "  I  was  wondering  what  you  would  say 
it  I  spoke  to  you,  and  gave  you  a  hint  that  sometimes — that 
sometimes  one  might  wish  to  cut  this  lazy  life  if  one  only 
knew  how,  and  whether  so  very  busy  a  person  as  yourself 
mightn't,  don't  you  see,  give  one  some  notion — some  sort  of 
hint,  in  fact — " 

"  Oh !  but  then,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said,  quite  cheerfully, 
"  you  would  think  it  very  strange  if  I  asked  you  to  take  any 
interest  in  the  things  that  keep  me  busy.  That  is  not  a  man's 
work.     I  wouldn't  accept  you  as  a  pupil." 

He  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Why,"  said  he,  "  do  you  think  I  offered  to  mend  stockings, 
and  set  sums  on  slates,  and  coddle  babies  ? " 

"  As  for  setting  sums  on  slates,"  she  remarked,  with  a  quiet 
impertinence,  "  the  working  of  them  out  might  be  of  use  to 
you." 

"  Yes,  and  a  serious  trouble,  too,"  he  said,  candidly.  "  No, 
no — that  cottage  business  ain't  in  my  line.  I  like  to  have  a 
joke  with  the  old  folks  or  a  romp  with  the  children  ;  but  I 
can.'t  go  in  for  cutting  out  pinafores.  I  shall  leave  my  mother 
to  do  my  share  of  that  for  me  ;  and  hasn't  she  come  out 
strong  lately,  eh  ?  It's  quite  a  new  amusement  for  her,  and 
it's  driven  a  deal  of  that  organ-grinding  stuff  out  of  her  head  ; 
and  I've  a  notion  some  of  those  parsons — " 

He  stopped  short,  remembering  who  his  companion  was: 
and  at  this  moment  they  came  to  a  gate  which  opened  out  on 
the  highway,  through  which  the  small  cur  was  passed  to  find 
his  way  home. 

"  Now,  Miss  Wenna,"  said  the  young  man — "  by  the  way, 
you  see  how  I  remember  to  address  you  respectfully  ever 
since  you  got  sulky  with  me  about  it  the  other  day  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  I  did  not  get  sulky  with  you,  and  especially 
about  that,"  she  remarked,  with  much  composure.  "  I  sup- 
pose you  are  not  aware  that  you  have  dropped  the  *  Miss ' 
several  times  this  morning  already  ?  " 

"Did  I,  really?  Well,  then,  I'm  awfully  sorry — but  then 
you  are  so  good-natured  you  tempt  one  to  forget ;  and  my 
mother  she  always  calls  you  Wenna  Rosewarne  now  in 
speaking  to  me,  as  if  you  were  a  little  school-girl  instead  of 
being  the  chief  support  and  pillar  of  all  the  public  affairs  of 
Eglosilyan.     And  now,  Miss  Wenna,  I  sha'n't  go  down  the 


CONFESSION.  151 

road  with  you,  because  my  damp  boots  and  garments  would 
gather  the  dust ;  but  perhaps  you  wouldn't  mind  stopping  two 
seconds  here,  and  I'm  going  to  go  a  cracker  and  ask  you  a 
question  :  What  should  a  fellow  in  my  position  try  to  do  ? 
You  see,  I  haven't  had  the  least  training  for  any  one  of  the 
professions,  even  if  I  had  any  sort  of  capacity — " 

"  But  why  should  you  wish  to  have  a  profession  ?  "  she 
said,  simply.  "  You  have  more  money  than  is  good  for  you 
already." 

"Then  you  don't  think  it  ignominious,"  he  said,  with  his 
face  lighting  up  considerably,  "  to  fish  in  summer,  and  shoot 
in  autumn,  and  hunt  in  winter,  and  make  that  the  only  busi- 
ness of  one's  life  ?  " 

"I  should,  if  it  were  the  only  business;  but  it  needn't  be, 
and  you  don't  make  it  so.  My  father  speaks  very  highly  of 
the  way  you  look  after  your  property ;  and  he  knows  what 
attending  to  an  estate  is.  And  then  you  have  so  many  op- 
portunities of  being  kind  and  useful  to  the  people  about  you, 
that  you  might  do  more  good  that  way  than  by  working  night 
and  day  at  a  profession.  Then  you  owe  much  to  yourself ; 
because  if  every  one  began  with  himself,  and  educated  him- 
self, and  became  satisfied  and  happy  with  doing  his  best, 
there  would  be  no  bad  conduct  and  wretchedness  to  call  for 
interference.  I  don't  see  why  you  should  be  ashamed  of 
shooting  and  hunting,  and  all  that ;  and  doing  them  as  well 
as  anybody  else,  or  far  better,  as  I  hear  people  say.  I  don't 
think  a  man  is  bound  to  have  ambition  and  try  to  become 
famous ;  you  might  be  of  much  greater  use  in  the  world  even 
in  such  a  little  place  as  Eglosilyan  than  if  you  were  in  Par- 
liament. I  did  say  to  Mrs.  Trelyon  that  I  should  like  to  see 
you  in  Parliament,  because  one  has  a  natural  pride  in  any 
one  that  one  admired  and  likes  very  much — " 

He  saw  the  quick  look  of  fear  that  sprang  to  her  eyes — 
not  a  sudden  appearance  of  shy  embarrassment,  but  of  abso- 
lute fear ;  and  he  was  almost  as  startled  by  her  blunder  as 
she  herself  was.  He  hastily  came  to  her  rescue.  He 
thanked  her  in  a  few  rapid  and  formal  words  for  her  patience 
and  advice  ;  and,  as  he  saw  she  was  trying  to  turn  away  and 
hide  the  mortification  visible  on  her  face,  he  shook  hands  with 
her,  and  let  her  go. 

Then  he  turned.  He  had  been  startled,  it  is  true,  and 
grieved  to  see  the  pain  her  chance  words  had  caused  her. 
But  now  a  great  glow  of  delight  rose  up  within  him  ;  and  he 
could  have  called  aloud  to  the  blue  skies  and  the  silent 
woods  because  of  the  joy  that  filled  his  heart.     They  were 


152  THREE  FEATHERS. 

chance  words,  of  course.  They  were  uttered  with  no  deliberate 
intention  ;  on  the  contrary,  her  quick  look  of  pain  showed 
how  bitterly  she  regretted  the  blunder.  Moreover,  he  con- 
gratulated himself  on  his  rapid  piece  of  acting,  and  assured 
himself  that  she  would  believe  that  he  had  not  noticed  that 
admission  of  hers.  They  were  idle  words.  She  would  for- 
get them.  The  incident,  so  far  as  she  was  concerned,  was 
gone. 

But  not  so  far  as  he  was  concerned.  For  now  he  knew 
that  the  person  whom,  above  all  other  persons  in  the  world, 
he  was  most  desirous  to  please,  who  respects  and  esteem  he 
was  most  anxious  to  obtain,  had  not  only  condoned  much  of 
his  idleness,  out  of  the  abundant  charity  of  her  heart,  but 
had  further,  and  by  chance,  revealed  to  him  that  she  gave 
him  some  little  share  of  that  affection  which  she  seemed  to  shed 
generously  and  indiscriminately  on  so  many  folks  and  things 
around  her.  He,  too,  was  now  in  the  charmed  circle.  He 
walked  with  a  new  pride  through  the  warm,  green  meadows, 
his  rod  over  his  shoulder ;  he  whistled  as  he  went,  or  he  sang 
snatches  of  "The  Rose  of  Allandale."  He  met  two  small 
boys  out  bird's-nesting ;  he  gave  them  a  shilling  apiece,  and 
then  inconsistently  informed  them  that  if  he  caught  them, 
then  or  at  any  other  time,  with  a  bird's  nest  in  their  hands, 
he  would  cuff  their  ears.  Then  he  walked  hastily  home,  put 
by  his  fishing-rod,  and  shut  himself  up  in  his  study  with  half 
a  dozen  of  those  learned  volumes  which  he  had  brought  back 
unsoiled  from  school. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

ON    WINGS    OF    HOPE. 

When  Trelyon  arrived  late  one  evening  at  Penzance,  he 
was  surprised'to  find  his  uncle's  coachman  awaiting  him  at 
the  station. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Tobias  ?  Is  the  old  gentleman  going 
to  die  ?     You  don't  mean  to  say  you  are  here  for  me  ? " 

"  Yaas,  zor,  I  be,"  said  the  little  old  man,  with  no  great 
courtesy. 

"  Then  he  is  going  to  die,  if  he  sends  out  his  horse  at  this 
time  o'night.  Look  here,  Tobias;  I'll  put  my  portmanteau 
inside  and  come  on  the  box  to  have  a  talk  with  you — you're 
such  a  jolly  old  card,  you  know — and  you'll  tell  me  all  that's 


ON  WINGS  OF  HOPE.  153 

happened  since  I  last  enjoyed  my  uncle's  bountiful  hospi- 
tality." 

This  the  young  man  did  ;  and  then  the  brown-faced,  wiry, 
and  surly  little  person,  having  started  his  horse,  proceeded  to 
tell  his  story  in  a  series  of  grumbling  and  disconnected  sent- 
ences.    He  was  not  nearly  so  taciturn  as  he  looked. 

"  The  maaster  he  went  siin  to  bed  to-night — 'twere  Miss 
Juliott  sent  me  to  the  station,  without  tellin'  en.  He's  gettin' 
worse  and  worse,  that's  sure ;  if  yii  be  for  givin'  me  half  a 
crown,  like,  or  any  one  that  comes  to  the  house,  he  finds  it 
out  and  stops  it  out  o'  my  wages ;  yes,  he  does,  zor,  the  old 
fule  ! " 

"  Tobias,  be  a  little  more  respectful  to  my  uncle,  if  you 
please." 

"  Why  zor,  yii  knaw  en  well  enough  !  "  said  the  man,  in  the 
same  surly  fashion.  "  And  I'll  tell  yii  this,  Maaster  Harry, 
if  yii  be  after  dinner  with  en,  and  he  has  a  bottle  o'  poort 
wine  that  he  puts  on  the  mantel-piece,  and  he  says  to  yii  to 
that  aloan,  vor  'tis  a  medicine-zart  o'  wine,  don't  yii  heed  en, 
but  have  that  wine.  'Tis  the  real  old  poort  wine,  zor,  that 
yiir  vather  gied  en ;  the  dahmned  old  Pagan  !  " 

The  young  man  burst  out  laughing,  instead  of  reprimand- 
ing Tobias,  who  maintained  his  sulky  impassiveness  of  face. 

"  Why,  zor,  I  be  gardener  now,  too  ;  yaas,  I  be,  to  save  the 
wages.  And  he's  gone  clean  mazed  about  that  garden  ;  yes, 
I  think.  Would  yii  believe  this,  Maaster  Harry,  that  he 
killed  every  one  o'  the  blessed  strawberries  last  year  with  a 
lot  o'  wrack  from  the  bache,  because  he  said  it  wiid  be  as 
good  for  them  as  for  the  'sparagus  ? " 

"  Well,  but  the  old  chap  finds  amusement  in  pottering 
about  the  garden — " 

"The  old  fule  !  "  repeated  Tobias,  in  an  undertone. 

"  And  the  theory  is  sound  about  the  sea-weed  and  the  straw- 
berries ;  just  as  his  old  notion  of  getting  a  green  rose  was  by 
pouring  sulphate  of  copper  in  at  the  roots." 

"  Yaas,  that  were  another  pretty  thing,  Maaster  Harry ;  and 
he  had  the  tin  labels  all  printed  out  in  French,  and  he  waited 
and  waited  and  there  bain't  a  fairly  glide  rose  left  in  the 
garden.  And  his  violet  glass  for  the  cucumbers — he  burned 
en  up  to  once,  although  'twere  fine  to  heark'n  talk  about  the 
sunlight  and  the  rays,  and  such  nonsenses.  He  be  a  strange 
mahn,  zor,  and  a  dahmned  close  'n  with  his  penny  pieces, 
Christian  and  all  as  he  calls  hissen.  There's  Miss  Juliott, 
zor,  she's  goin'  to  get  married,  I  suppose ;  and  when  she 


154  THREE  FEATHERS. 

goes  no  one'll  dare  speak  to  'n.  Be  yii  goin'  to  stop  long 
this  time,  Maaster  Harry  ?  " 

"  Not  at  the  Hollies,  Tobias.  I  shall  go  down  to  the 
Queen's  to-morrow  ;  I've  got  rooms  there." 

"  So  much  the  better  ;  so  much  the  better,"  said  the  frank 
but  enhospitable  retainer;  and  presently  the  jog-trot  old 
animal  between  the  shafts  was  pulled  up  in  front  of  a  cer- 
tain square  old-fashioned  building  of  gray  stone,  which  was 
prettily  surrounded  with  trees.  They  had  arrived  at  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Penaluna's  house  ;  and  there  was  a  young  lady  standing 
in  the  light  of  the  hall,  she  having  opened  the  door  very 
softly  as  she  heard  the  carriage  drive  up. 

"  So  here  you  are,  Harry  ;  and  you'll  stay  with  us  the  whole 
fortnight,  won't  you  ?  Come  into  the  dining-room — I  have 
some  supper  ready  for  you  ?  Papa's  gone  to  bed,  and  he  de- 
sired me  to  give  you  his  excuses,  and  he  hopes  you'll  make 
yourself  quite  at  home,  as  you  always  do,  Harry." 

He  did  make  himself  quite  at  home  ;  for,  having  kissed  his 
cousin,  and  flung  his  top-coat  down  in  the  hall,  he  went  into 
the  dining-room,  and  took  possession  of  an  easy-chair. 

"  Sha'n't  have  any  supper,  Jue,  thank  you.  You  won't  mind 
my  lighting  a  cigar — somebody's  been  smoking  here  already. 
And  what's  the  least  poisonous  claret  you've  got  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  declare  !  "  she  said  ;  but  she  got  him  the  wine  all 
the  same,  and  watched  him  light  his  cigar ;  then  she  took  the 
easy-chair  opposite. 

"  Tell  us  about  your  young  man,  Jue,"  he  said.  "  Girls  al- 
ways like  to  talk  about  that." 

"  Do  they  ?  "  she  said.     "  Not  to  boys." 

"  I  shall  be  twenty-one  in  a  fortnight.  I  am  thinking  of 
getting  married." 

"  So  I  hear,"  she  remarked  quietly. 

Now  he  had  been  talking  nonsense  at  random — mostly  in- 
tent on  getting  his  cigar  well  lit ;  but  this  little  observation 
rather  startled  him. 

"  What  have  you  heard  ?  "  he  said,  abruptly. 

"  Oh  !  nothing — the  ordinary  stupid  gossip,"  she  said,  though 
she  was  watching  him  father  closely.  "  Are  you  going  to 
stay  with  us  for  the  next  fortnight  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  have  got  rooms  at  the  Queen's." 

"  I  thought  so.  One  might  have  expected  you,  however, 
to  stay  with  your  relations  when  you  came  to  Penzance." 

"  Oh;  that's  all  gammon,  Jue  ;  "  he  said ,  "  you  know  very 
well  your  father  doesn't  care  to  have  any  one  stay  with  you 


ON  WINGS  OF  HOPE.  155 

— it's  too  much  bother.  You'll  have  quite  enough  of  me 
while  I  am  in  Penzance." 

"  Shall  we  have  anything  of  you  ?  "  she  said,  with  apparent 
indifference.  "  I  understood  that  Miss  Rosewarne  and  her 
mamma  had  already  come  here." 

"  And  what  if  they  have  ?  "  he  said,  with  unnecessary  fierce- 
ness. 

"Well,  Harry,"  she  said,  "you  needn't  get  into  a  temper 
about  it ;  but  people  will  talk,  you  know ;  and  they  say  that 
your  attentions  to  that  young  lady  are  rather  marked,  consid- 
ering that  she  is  engaged  to  be  married ;  and  you  have  in- 
duced your  mother  to  make  a  pet  of  her.     Shall  I  go  on  ?  " 

"  No,  you  needn't,"  he  said,  with  a  strong  effort  to  overcome 
his  anger.  "  You're  quite  right — people  do  talk  ;  but  they 
wouldn't  talk  so  much  if  other  people  didn't  carry  tales.  Why, 
it  isn't  like  you,  Jue.  I  thought  you  were  another  sort.  And 
about  this  girl  of  all  girls  in  the  world — " 

He  got  up  and  began  walking  about  the  room,  and  talking 
with  considerable  vehemence,  but  no  more  in  anger.  He 
would  tell  her  what  cause  there  was  for  this  silly  gossip. 
He  would  tell  her  who  this  girl  was  v/ho  had  been  lightly  men- 
tioned. And  in  his  blunt,  frank,  matter-of-fact  way,  which 
did  not  quite  conceal  his  emotion,  he  revealed  to  his  cousin 
all  that  he  thought  of  Wenna  Rosewarne,  and  what  he  hoped 
for  in  the  future,  and  what  their  present  relations  were,  and 
then  plainly  asked  her  if  she  could  condemn  him.  Miss  Ju- 
liott  was  touched. 

"  Sit  down,  Harry  ;  I  have  wanted  to  talk  to  you,  and  I  don't 
mean  to  heed  any  gossip.  Sit  down,  please — you  frighten 
me  by  walking  up  and  down  like  that.  Now  I'm  going  to 
talk  common-sense  to  you,  for  I  should  like  to  be  your  friend  ; 
and  your  mother  is  so  easily  led  away  by  any  sort  of  senti- 
ment that  she  isn't  likely  to  have  seen  with  my  eyes.  Sup- 
pose that  this  Miss  Rosewarne — " 

"  No  ;  hold  hard  a  bit,  Jue,"  he  said,  imperatively.  "You 
may  talk  till  the  millennium,  but  just  keep  off  her,  I  warn 
you." 

"Will  you  hear  me  out,  you  silly  boy  ?  Suppose  that  Miss 
Rosewarne  is  everything  that  you  believe  her  to  be.  I'm 
going  to  grant  that,  because  I'm  going  to  ask  you  a  question. 
You  can't  have  such  an  opinion  of  any  girl,  and  be  constantly 
in  her  society,  and  go  following  her  about  like  this,  without 
falling  in  love  with  her.  Now,  in  that  case,  would  you  pro- 
pose to  marry  her  ?" 

"  I  marry  her !  "  he  said,  his  face  becoming  suddenly  pale 


1 56  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

for  a  moment.     "  Jue,  you  are  mad.     I  am  not  fit  to  marry  a 
girl  like  that.     You  don't  know  her.     Why — " 

"  Let  all  that  alone,  Harry ;  when  a  man  is  in  love  with  a 
woman  he  always  thinks  he's  good  enough  for  her;  and 
whether  he  does  or  not  he  tries  to  get  her  for  a  wife.  Don't 
let  us  discuss  your  comparative  merits — one  might  even  put 
in  a  word  for  you.  But  suppose  you  drifted  into  being 
in  love  with  her — and  I  consider  that  quite  probable — and 
suppose  you  forgot,  as  I  know  you  would  forget,  the  differ- 
ence in  your  social  position,  how  would  you  like  to  go  and 
ask  her  to  break  her  promise  to  the  gentleman  to  whom  she  is 
engaged  ? "  ' 

Master  Harry  laughed  aloud,  in  a  somewhat  nervous  fash- 
ion. 

"  Him  ?  Look  here,  Jue  ;  leave  me  out  of  it — I  haven't 
the  cheek  to  talk  of  myself  in  that  connection  ;  but  if  there 
was  a  decent  sort  of  fellow  whom  that  girl  really  took  a  lik- 
ing to,  do  you  think  he  would  let  that  elderly  and  elegant 
swell  in  Jamaica  stand  in  his  way  ?  He  would  be  no  such 
fool,  I  can  tell  you.  He  would  consider  the  girl  first  of  all. 
He  would  say  to  himself,  '  I  mean  to  make  this  girl  happy  ; 
if  any  one  interferes,  let  him  look  out !  '  Why,  Jue.  you 
don't  suppose  any  man  would  be  frightened  by  that  sort  of 
thing !  " 

Miss  Juliott  did  not  seem  quite  convinced  by  this  burst  of 
scornful  oratory.     She  continued  quietly — 

"  You  forget  something,  Harry.  Your  heroic  young  man 
might  find  it  easy  to  do  something  wild — to  fight  with  that 
gentleman  in  the  West  Indies,  or  murder  him,  or  anything 
like  that,  just  as  you  see  in  a  story ;  but  perhaps  Miss  Rose- 
warne  might  have  something  to  say." 

"  I  meant  if  she  cared  for  him,"  Trelyon  said,  looking 
down. 

"Granting  that  also,  do  you  think  it  likely  your  hot-headed 
gentleman  would  be  able  to  get  a  young  lady  to  disgrace  her- 
self by  breaking  her  plighted  word,  and  deceiving  a  man  who 
went  away  trusting  in  her  ?  You  say  she  has  a  very  tender 
conscience — that  she  is  so  anxious  to  consult  every  one's 
happiness  before  her  own — and  all  that.  Probably  it  is  true. 
I  say  nothing  against  her.  But  to  bring  the  matter  back  to 
yourself — for  I  believe  you're  hot-headed  enough  to  do  any- 
thing— what  would  you  think  of  her  if  you  or  anybody  else 
persuaded  her  to  do  such  a  treacherous  thing  ?  " 

"  She  is  not  capable  of  treachery,  he  said,  somewhat 
Stiffly.     "  If  you've  got  no  more  cheerful  things  to  talk  about, 


LOVE-MAKING  AT  LAND'S  END. 


57 


you'd  better  go  to  bed,  Tue.  I  shall  finish  my  cigar  bv  my- 
self." * 

"  Very  well,  then,  Harry.  You  know  your  room.  Will 
you  put  out  the  lamp  when  you  have  lit  your  candle  ?  " 

So  she  went,  and  the  young  man  was  left  alone,  in  no  very 
enviable  frame  of  mind.  He  sat  and  smoked,  while  the  clock 
on  the  mantel-piece  swung  its  gilded  boy,  and  struck  the 
hours  and  half-hours  with  unheeded  regularity.  He  lit  a 
second  cigar,  and  a  third  ;  he  forgot  the  wine  ;  it  seemed  to 
him  that  he  was  looking  on  all  the  roads  of  life  that  lay  be- 
fore him,  and  they  were  lit  up  by  as  strange  and  new  a  light 
as  that  which  was  beginning  to  shine  over  the  world  outside. 
New  fancies  seemed  to  awake  with  the  new  dawn.  For  him- 
self to  ask  Wenna  Rosewarne  to  be  his  wife  ? — could  he  but 
win  the  tender  and  shy  regard  of  her  eyes  he  would  fall  at 
her  feet  and  bathe  them  with  his  tears  !  And  if  this  wonder- 
ful thing  were  possible — if  she  could  put  her  hand  in  his  and 
trust  to  him  for  safety  in  all  the  coming  years  they  might  live 
together — what  man  of  woman  born  would  dare  to  interfere  ? 
There  was  a  blue  light  coming  in  through  the  shutters.  He 
went  to  the  window — the  topmost  leaves  of  the  trees  were 
quivering  in  the  cold  air,  far  up  there  in  the  clearing  skies, 
where  the  stars  were  fading  out  one  by  one.  And  he  could 
hear  the  sound  of  the  sea  on  the  distant  beach  ;  and  he  knew 
that  across  the  gray  plain  of  waters  the  dawn  was  breaking, 
and  that  over  the  sleeping  world  another  day  was  rising  that 
seemed  to  him  the  first  day  of  a  new  and  tremulous  life,  full 
of  joy  and  courage  and  hope. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

LOVE-MAKING   AT    LAND'S    END. 

"  Are  you  dreaming  again,  child  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Rosewarne 
to  her  daughter.  **  You  are  not  a  fit  companion  for  a  sick 
womap,  who  is  herself  dull  enough.  Why  do  you  always  look 
so  sad  when  you  look  at  the  sea,  Wenna  ?  " 

The  wan-faced,  beautiful-eyed  woman  lay  on  a  sofa,  a  book 
beside  her.  She  had  been  chatting  in  a  bright,  rapid,  desul- 
tory fashion  about  the  book  and  a  dozen  other  things — 
amusing  herself  really  by  a  continual  stream  of  playful  talk 
— until  she  perceived  that  the  girl's  fancies  were  far  away. 


158  THREE  FEATHERS. 

Then  she  stopped  suddenly,  with  this  expression  of  petulant 
but  good-natured  disappointment. 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,  mother,"  said  Wenna,  who  was 
seated  at  an  open  window  fronting  the  bay.  "  What  did  you 
say  ?  Why  does  the  sea  make  one  sad  ?  I  don't  know. 
One  feels  less  at  home  here  than  out  on  the  rocks  at  Eglosil- 
yan  ;  perhaps  that  is  it.  Or  the  place  is  so  beautiful  that  it 
almost  makes  you  cry.     I  don't  know." 

And,  indeed,  Penzance  Bay,  on  this  still,  clear  morning,  was 
beautiful  enough  to  attract  wistful  eyes  and  call  up  vague  and 
distant  fancies.  The  cloudless  sky  was  intensely  dark  in  its 
blue  ;  one  had  a  notion  that  the  unseen  sun  was  overhead  and 
shining  vertically  down.  The  still  plain  of  water — so  clear 
that  the  shingle  could  be  seen  through  it  a  long  way  out — had 
no  decisive  color  ;  but  the  fishing-smacks  lying  out  there  were 
jet-black  points  in  the  bewildering  glare.  The  sunlight  did 
not  seem  to  be  in  the  sky,  in  the  air,  or  on  the  sea  ;  but  when 
you  turned  to  the  southern  arm  of  the  bay,  where  the  low  line 
of  green  hills  runs  out  into  the  water,  there  you  could  see  the 
strong  clear  light  shining — shining  on  the  green  fields  and  on 
the  sharp  black  lines  of  hedges,  on  that  bit  of  grey  old  town 
with  its  cottage-gardens  and  its  sea-wall,  and  on  the  line  of 
dark  rock  that  formed  the  point  of  the  promontory.  On  the 
other  side  of  the  bay,  the  eye  followed  the  curve  of  the  level 
shore,  until  it  caught  sight  of  St.  Michael's  Mount  rising 
palely  from  the  water,  its  sunlit  grays  and  purple  shadows 
softened  by  the  cool  distance.  Then  beyond  that  again,  on 
the  verge  of  the  far  horizon,  lay  the  long  and  narrow  line  of 
the  Lizard,  half  lost  in  a  silver  haze.  For  the  rest,  a  cool 
wind  went  this  way  and  that  through  Mrs.  Rosewarne's  room, 
stirring  the  curtains.  There  was  a  fresh  odor  of  the  sea  in 
the  air.  It  was  a  day  for  dreaming,  perhaps  ;  but  not  for  the 
gloom  begotten  of  languor  and  an  indolent  pulse. 

"  Oh,  mother— oh,  mother  !  "  Wenna  cried  suddenly,  with 
a  flush  of  color  in  hei  cheeks.  "  Do  you  know  who  is  coming 
along  ?  Can  you  see  ?  It  is  Mr.  Trelyon,  and  he  is  looking 
at  all  the  houses;  I  know  he  is  looking  for  us." 

"  Child,  child !  "  said  the  mother.  "  How  should  Mr.  Trel- 
yon know  we  are  here  ? " 

"  Because  I  told  him,"  Wenna  replied,  simply  and  hur- 
riedly. "  Mother,  may  I  wave  a  handkerchief  to  him  ? 
Won't  you  come  and  see  him  ?  he  seems  so  much  more  manly 
in  this  strange  place  ;  and  how  brave  and  handsome  he 
looks  !  " 

"  Wenna  !  "  her  mothei  said,  severely. 


L  O  VE-MA KING  A  T  LAND'S  END.  1 59 

The  girl  did  not  wave  a  handkerchief,  it  is  true  ;  although 
she  knelt  down  at  the  open  bay  window,  so  that  he  must  needs 
see  her ;  and  sure  enough  he  did.  Off  went  his  hat  in  a  min- 
ute ;  a  bright  look  of  recognition  leaped  to  his  eyes,  and  he 
crossed  the  street.  Then  Wenna  turned,  all  in  a  flutter  of  de- 
light, and  quite  unconscious  of  the  color  in  her  face. 

"  Are  you  vexed,  mother  ?  Mayn't  I  be  glad  to  see  him  ? 
Why,  when  I  know  that  he  will  brighten  up  your  spirits  bet- 
ter than  a  dozen  doctors !  One  feels  quite  happy  and  hope- 
ful whenever  he  comes  into  the  rqom.  Mother,  you  won't 
have  to  complain  of  dulness  if  Mr.  Trelyon  comes  to  see  you. 
And  why  doesn't  the  girl  send  him  up  at  once  ?  " 

Wenna  was  standing  at  the  open  door  to  receive  him  when 
he  came  up-stairs  ;  she  had  wholly  forgotten  the  embarrass- 
ment of  their  last  parting. 

"  I  thought  I  should  find  you  out,"  he  said,  when  he  came 
into  the  room,  and  it  was  clear  that  there  was  little  embarrass- 
ment about  him  ;  "  and  I  know  how  your  mother  likes  to  be 
teased  and  worried.  You've  get  a  nice  place  here,  Mrs. 
Rosewarne ;  and  what  splendid  weather  you've  brought  with 
you  ! " 

"  Yes,"  said  Wenna,  her  whole  face  lit  up  with  a  shy  glad- 
ness, "  haven't  we  ?  And  did  you  ever  see  the  bay  looking 
more  beautiful  ?  It  is  enough  to  make  you  laugh  and  clap 
your  hands  out  of  mere  delight  to  see  everything  so  lovely 
and  fresh  !  " 

"  A  few  minutes  ago  I  thought  you  were  nearly  crying  over 
it,"  said  the  mother,  with  a  smile  ;  but  Miss  Wenna  took  no 
heed  of  the  reproof.  She  would  have  Mr.  Trelyon  help  him- 
self to  a  tumbler  of  claret-and-water.  She  fetched  out  from 
some  mysterious  lodging-house  recess  an  ornamented  tin  can  of 
biscuits.  She  accused  herself  of  hieing  the  dullest  compan- 
ion in  the  world,  and  indirectly  hinted  that  he  might  have 
pity  on  her  mamma  and  stay  to  luncheon  with  them. 

"  Well,  its  very  odd,"  he  said,  telling  a  lie  with  great  sim- 
plicity of  purpose,  "  but  I  had  arranged  to  drive  to  the  Land's 
End  for  luncheon — to  the  inn  there,  you  know.  I  suppose  it 
wouldn't — do  you  think,  Mrs.  Rosewarne — would  it  be  con- 
venient for  you  to  come  for  a  drive  so  far  ? " 

"  Ohj  it  would  be  the  very  best  thing  in  the  world  for  her 
— nothing  could  be  better,"  said  Wenna ;  and  then  she  added 
meekly,  "  if  it  is  not  giving  you  too  much  trouble,  Mr.  Trel- 
yon." 

He  laughed. 

"  Trouble  !     I'm  glad  to  be  of  use  to  anybody  ;  and  in  this 


r6o  THREE  FEATHERS. 

case  I  shall  have  all  the  pleasure  on  my  side.  Well,  I'm  off 
now  to  see  about  the  horses.  If  I  come  for  you  in  half  an  hour 
will  that  do  ?  " 

As  soon  as  he  had  left,  Mrs.  Rosewarne  turned  to  her 
daughter,  and  said  to  her,  gravely  enough — 

"  Wenna,  one  has  seldom  to  talk  to  you  about  the  proprie- 
ties ;  but,  really,  this  seems  just  a  little  doubtful.  Mr. 
Trelyon  may  make  a  friend  of  you ;  that  is  all  very  well,  for 
you  are  going  to  marry  a  friend  of  his.  But  you  ought  not  to 
expect  him  to  associate  with  me." 

"  Mother,"  said  Wenna,  with  hot  cheeks,  "  I  wonder  how 
you  can  suspect  him -of  thinking  of  such  foolish  and  wicked 
things.  Why,  he  is  the  very  last  man  in  all  the  world  to  do 
anything  that  was  mean  and  unkind,  or  to  think  about  it." 

"  My  dear  child,  I  suspect  him  of  nothing,"  Mrs.  Rose- 
warne said  ;  "  but  look  at  the  simple  facts  of  the  case.  Mr. 
Trelyon  is  a  very  rich  gentleman :  his  family  is  an  old  one, 
greatly  honored  about  here  ;  and  if  he  is  so  recklessly  kind 
as  to  offer  his  acquaintanceship  to  persons  who  are  alto- 
gether in  a  different  sphere  of  life,  we  should  take  care  not 
to  abuse  his  kindness,  or  to  let  people  have  occasion  to  won- 
der at  him.  Looking  at  your  marriage  and  future  station,  it 
is  perhaps  more  permissible  with  you  ;  but  as  regards  myself, 
I  don't  very  much  care,  Wenna,  to  have  Mr.  Trelyon  coming 
about  the  house." 

"Why,  mother,  I — I  am  surprised  at  you!"  Wenna  said, 
warmly.  "You  judge  of  him  by  the  contemptible  things 
that  other  people  might  say  of  him.  Do  you  think  he  would 
care  for  that  ?  Mr.  Trelyon  is  a  man,  and  like  a  man  he  has 
the  courage  to  choose  such  friends  as  he  likes ;  and  it  is  no 
more  to  him  what  money  they  have,  or  what  their  position  is, 
than  the— than  the  shape  of  their  pocket-handkerchiefs  is ! 
Perhaps  that  is  his  folly — recklessness — the  recklessness  of 
a  young  man.  Perhaps  it  is.  I  am  not  old  enough  to  know 
how  people  alter ;  but  I  hope  I  shall  never  see  Mr.  Trelyon 
alter  in  this  respect — never,  if  he  were  to  live  for  a  hundred 
years.  And— and  I  am  surprised  to  hear  you,  of  all  people, 
mother,  suggest  such  things  of  him.  What  has  he  done  that 
you  should  think  so  meanly  of  him  ! " 

Wenna  was  very  indignant  and  hurt.  She  would  have  con- 
tinued further,  but  that  a  tremulous  movement  of  her  under 
lip  caused  her  to  turn  away  her  head. 

"  Well,  Wenna,  you  needn't  cry  about  it,"  her  mother  said, 
gently.  "  It  is  of  no  great  consequence.  Of  course  evey  one 
must  please  himself  in  choosing  his  friends  ;  and  I  quite  ad- 


LOVE-MAKING   AT  LAND'S  END.  161 

mit  that  Mr.  Trelyon  is  not  likely  to  be  hindered  by  anything 
that  anybody  may  say.  Don't  take  it  so  much  to  heart,  child  ; 
go  and  get  on  your  things,  and  get  back  some  of  the  cheer- 
fulness you  had  while  he  was  here.  I  will  say  that  for  the 
young  man — that  he  has  an  extraordinary  power  of  raising 
your  spirits." 

"  You  are  a  good  mother  after  all,"  said  Wenna,  penitently ; 
"  and  if  you  come  and  let  me  dress  you  prettily,  I  shall  prom- 
ise not  to  scold  you  again — not  till  the  next  time  you  deserve 
it." 

By  the  time  they  drove  away  from  Penzance  the  forenoon 
had  softened  into  more  beautiful  colors.  There  was  a  paler 
blue  in  the  sky  and  on  the  sea,  and  millions  of  yellow  stars 
twinkled  on  the  ripples.  A  faint  haze  had  fallen  over  the 
bright  green  hills  lying  on  the  south  of  the  bay. 

"  Life  looks  worth  having  on  such  a  day  as  this,"  Trelyon 
said  ;  "  doesn't  it,  Miss  Wenna  ?  " 

She  certainly  seemed  pleased  enough.  She  drank  in  the 
sweet  fresh  air ;  she  called  attention  to  the  pure  rare  colors 
of  the  sea  and  the  green  uplands  ;  the  coolness  of  the  woods 
through  which  they  drove,  the  profuse  abundance  of  wild 
flowers  along  the  banks — all  things  around  her  seemed  to 
have  conspired  to  yield  her  delight ;  and  a  great  happiness 
shone  in  her  eyes.  Mr.  Trelyon  talked  mostly  to  Mrs.  Rose- 
warne ;  but  his  eyes  rarely  wandered  away  for  long  from 
Wenna's  pleased  and  radiant  face  ;  and  again  and  again  he 
said  to  himself,  "And  if  a  simple  drive  on  a  spring  morning 
can  give  this  child  so  great  a  delight,  it  is  not  the  last  that  she 
and  1  shall  have  together" 

"  Mrs.  Rosewarne,"  said  he,  "  I  think  your  daughter  has 
as  much  need  of  a  holiday  as  anybody.  I  don't  believe 
there's  a  woman  or  girl  in  the  country  works  as  hard  as  she 
does." 

"  I  don't  know  whether  she  needs  it,"  said  Miss  Wenna,  of 
herself,  "  but  I  know  that  she  enjoys  it." 

"  I  know  what  you'd  enjoy  a  good  deal  better  than  merely 
getting  out  of  sight  of  your  own  door  for  a  week  or  two," 
said  he.  "  Wouldn't  you  like  to  get  clear  away  from  Eng- 
land for  six  months,  and  go  wandering  about  all  sorts  of  fine 
places  ?  Why,  I  could  take  you  such  a  trip  in  that  time  !  I 
should  like  to  see  what  you'd  say  to  some  of  the  old  Dutch 
towns  and  their  churches,  and  all  that  ;  then  Cologne,  ycu 
know,  and  a  sail  up  the  Rhine  to  Mainz  ;  then  you'd  go  on 
to  Basel  and  Geneva,  and  we'd  get  you  a  fine  big  carriage 
with  the  horses  decorated  with  foxes'  and  pheasants'  tails,  to 


1 62  THREE  FEATHERS. 

drive  you  to  Chamounix.  Then,  when  you  had  gone  tremu- 
lously over  the  Mer  de  Glace,  and  kept  your  wits  about  you 
going  down  the  Mauvais  Pas,  I  don't  think  you  could  do  bet- 
ter than  go  on  to  the  Italian  lakes — you  never  saw  anything 
like  them,  I'll  be  bound — and  Naples  and  Florence.  Would 
you  come  back  by  the  Tyrol,  and  have  a  turn  at  Zurich  and 
Lucerne,  with  a  ramble  through  the  Black  Forest  in  a  trap 
resembling  a  ramshackle  landau?" 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Wenna,  very  cheerfully.  "  The  sketch 
is  delightful ;  but  I  am  pretty  comfortable  where  I  am." 

"But  this  can't  last,"  said  he. 

"  And  neither  can  my  holidays,"  she  answered. 

"Oh,  but  they  ought  to,"  he  retorted  vehemently.  "You 
have  not  half  enough  amusement  in  your  life — that's  my  opin- 
ion. You  slave  too  much  for  all  those  folks  about  Eglosilyan 
and  their  dozens  of  children.  Why,  you  don't  get  anything 
out  of  life  as  you  ought  to.  What  have  you  to  look  forward 
to  ?  Only  the  same  ceaseless  round  of  working  for  other 
people.  Don't  you  think  you  might  let  some  one  else  have  a 
turn  at  that  useful  but  monotonous  occupation  ? " 

"  But  Wenna  has  something  else  to  look  forward  to  now," 
her  mother  reminded  him  gently ;  and  after  that  he  did  not 
speak  for  some  time. 

Fair  and  blue  was  the  sea  that  shone  all  around  the  land 
when  they  got  out  on  the  rough  moorland  near  the  coast. 
They  drove  to  the  solitary  little  inn  perched  over  the  steep 
cliffs  ;  and  here  the  horses  were  put  up  and  luncheon  ordered. 
Would  Mrs.  Rosewarne  venture  down  to  the  great  rocks  at 
the  promontory  ?  No,  she  would  rather  stay  indoors  till  the 
young  people  returned ;  and  so  these  two  went  along  the 
grassy  path  by  themselves. 

They  clambered  clown  the  slopes,  and  went  out  among  the 
huge  blocks  of  weather-worn  granite,  many  of  which  were 
brilliant  with  gray,  green,  and  orange  lichens.  There  was  a 
low  and  thunderous  noise  in  the  air ;  far  below  them,  calm 
and  fine  as  the  day  was,  the  summer  sea  dashed  and  roared 
into  gigantic  caverns,  while  the  white  foam  floated  out  again 
on  the  troubled  waves.  Could  anything  have  been  more 
magical  than  the  colors  of  the  sea — its  luminous  greens,  its 
rich  purples,  its  brilliant  blues,  lying  in  long  swathes  on  the 
apparently  motionless  surface  ?  It  was  only  the  seething 
white  beneath  their  feet  and  the  hoaise  thunder  along  the 
coast  that  told  of  the  force  of  this  summer-like  sea ;  for  the 
rest  the  picture  was  light  and  calm  and  beautiful.  Out  there 
the  black  rocks  basked  in  the  sunlight,  the  big  skarts  stand 


LOVE-MAKING    AT  LAND'S  END.  163 

ing  on  their  ledges,  not  moving  a  feather.  A  small  steamer 
was  slowly  making  for  the  island  farther  out,  where  a  light- 
house stood.  And  far  away  beyond  these,  on  the  remote 
horizon,  the  Scilly  Isles  lay  like  a  low  bank  of  yellow  fog, 
under  the  pale  blue  skies. 

They  were  very  much  by  themselves,  out  here  at  the  end 
of  the  woild ;  and  yet  they  did  not  seem  inclined  to  talk 
much.  Wenna  sat  down  on  the  warm  grass  ;  her  companion 
perched  himself  on  one  of  the  blocks  of  granite;  they 
watched  the  great  undulations  of  the  blue  water  rolling  on 
the  black  rocks,  and  then  falling  backward  seething  in  foam. 

"  And  what  are  you  thinking  about  ?  "  said  Trelycn  to  her 
gently,  so  that  she  should  not  be  startled. 

"Of  nothing  at  all — I  am  quite  happy,"  Wenna  said 
frankly.  Then  she  added,  "I  suppose  the  worst  of  a  day 
like  this  is  that  a  long  time  after  you  look  back  upon  it,  and 
it  seems  so  beautiful  and  far  away  that  it  makes  you  misera- 
ble. You  think  how  happy  you  were  once.  That  is  the  un- 
fortunate side  of  being  happy." 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  must  say  you  don't  look  forward  to 
the  future  with  any  great  hope,  if  you  think  the  recollection 
of  one  bright  day  will  make  you  wretched." 

He  came  down  from  his  perch  and  stood  beside  her. 

"  Why,  Wenna,"  said  he,  "  do  you  know  what  you  really 
need  ?  Some  one  to  take  you  in  hand  thoroughly,  and  give 
you  such  an  abundance  of  cheerful  and  pleasant  days  that 
you  would  never  think  of  singling  out  any  one  of  them. 
Why  shouldn't  you  have  weeks  and  months  of  happy  idling 
in  bright  weather,  such  as  lots  of  people  have  who  don't  de- 
serve them  a  bit  ?  There's  something  wrong  in  your  position. 
You  want  some  one  to  become  your  master,  and  compel  you 
to  make  yourself  happy.  You  won't  of  yourself  study  your 
own  comfort ;  some  one  else  ought  to  make  you." 

"  And  who  do  you  think  would  care  to  take  so  much 
trouble  about  me  ? "  she  said,  with  a  smile  ;  for  she  attached 
no  serious  meaning  to  this  random  talk. 

Her  companion's  face  flushed  somewhat,  not  with  embar- 
rassment, but  with  the  courage  of  what  he  was  going  to  say. 

"  I  would,"  he  said,  boldly.  "  You  will  say  it  is  none  of 
my  business  ;  but  I  tell  you  I  would  give  twenty  thousand 
pounds  to-morrow  if  I  were  allowed,  to — to  get  you  a  whole 
summer  of  pleasant  holidays." 

There  was  something  about  the  plain-spoken  honesty  cf 
this  avowal  that  touched  her  keenly.  Wild  and  impossible 
as  the  suggestion  was,  it  told  her  at  least  what  one  person  in 


1 64  THREE  FEATHERS. 

the  world  thought  of  her.  She  said  to  him,  with  her  eyes 
cast  down — 

"  I  like  to  hear  you  speak  like  that — not  for  my  own  sake 
— but  I  know  there  is  nothing  generous  and  kindly  that  you 
wouldn't  do  at  a  mere  moment's  impulse.  But  I  hope  you 
don't  think  I  have  been  grumbling  over  my  lot,  on  such  a 
day  as  this  ?  Oh  no  ;  I  see  too  much  of  other  people's  ways 
of  living  to  complain  of  my  own.  I  have  every  reason  to  be 
contented  and  happy." 

"Yes,  you're  a  deal  too  contented  and  happy,"  said  he, 
with  an  impatient  shrug.  "  You  want  somebody  to  alter  all 
that,  and  see  that  you  get  more  to  be  contented  and  happy 
about." 

She  rose  ;  he  gave  her  his  hand  to  help  her  up.  But  he 
did  not  surrender  her  hand  then,  for  the  path  up  the  slopes 
was  a  steep  and  difficult  one  ;  and  she  could  fairly  rely  on 
his  strength  and  sureness  of  foot. 

"  But  you  are  not  content,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said.  "  I 
always  notice  that  whenever  you  get  to  a  dangerous  place 
you  are  never  satisfied  unless  you  are  putting  your  life  in 
peril.  Wouldn't  ycu  like  to  ride  your  black  horse  down  the 
face  of  this  precipice  ?  Or  wouldn't  you  like  to  clamber 
down  blindfold  ?  Why  does  a  man  generally  seem  to  be 
anxious  to  get  rid  of  his  life  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  it  isn't  of  much  use  to  him,"  he  said,  coolly. 

"You  ought  not  to  say  that,"  she  answered,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  I  don't  mean  to  break  my  neck  yet 
awhile  ;  but  if  I  did,  who  would  miss  me  ?  I  suppose  my 
mother  would  play  half  a  dozen  a  day  more  operas  or  ora- 
torios, or  stuff  of  that  sort,  and  there  would  be  twenty 
parsons  in  the  house  for  one  there  is  at  present.  And  some 
of  the  brats  about  the  place  would  miss  an  occasional  six- 
pence— which  would  be  better  for  their  health.  And  Dick — 
I  suppose  they'd  sell  him  to  some  fool  of  a  Londoner,  who 
would  pound  his  knees  out  in  the  Park — he  would  miss  me 
too." 

"And  these  are  all,"  she  said,  "who  would  miss  you? 
You  are  kind  to  your  friends." 

"  Why,  would  you  ? "  he  said,  with  a  stare  of  surprise  ;  and 
then,  seeing  she  would  not  speak,  he  continued  with  a  laugh, 
"  I  like  the  notion  of  my  making  an  object  of  general  com- 
passion of  myself.  Did  the  poor  dear  tumble  off  a  rock  into 
the  sea  ?  And  where  was  its  mother's  apron-string?  I'm 
not  going  to  break  my  neck  yet  awhile,  Miss  Wenna ;  so 


L O VE-MA KING  AT  LA ND'S  END.  1 65 

don't  you  think  I'm  going  to  let  you  off  your  promise  to  pay 
me  back  for  those  sewing-machines." 

"  I  have  told  you,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said,  with  some  dig- 
nity, "  that  we  shall  pay  you  back  every  farthing  of  the  price 
of  them." 

He  began  to  whistle  in  an  impertinent  manner.  He 
clearly  placed  no  great  faith  in  the  financial  prospects  of 
that  Sewing  Club. 

They  had  some  light  luncheon  in  the  remote  little  inn,  and 
Mrs.  Rosewarne  was  pleased  to  see  her  ordinarily  demure 
and  preoccupied  daughter  in  such  high  and  careless  spirits. 
It  was  not  a  splendid  banquet.  Nor  was  the  chamber  a 
gorgeous  one,  for  the  absence  of  ornament  and  the  enor- 
mous thickness  of  the  walls  told  of  the  house  being  shut  up 
in  the  winter  months  and  abandoned  to  the  fury  of  the 
western  gales,  when  the  wild  sea  came  hurling  up  the  face 
of  these  steep  cliffs  and  blowing  over  the  land.  But  they 
paid  little  attention  to  any  lack  of  luxury.  There  was  a 
beautiful  blue  sea  shining  in  the  distance,  the  sunlight  was 
falling  hotly  on  the  greensward  of  the  rocks  outside,  and  a 
fresh,  cool  breeze  came  blowing  in  at  the  open  window. 
They  let  the  time  pass  easily,  with  pleasant  talk  and  laugh- 
ter. 

Then  they  drove  leisurely  back  in  the  afternoon.  They 
passed  along  the  moorland  ways,  through  rude  little  villages 
built  of  stone,  and  by  the  outskirts  of  level  and  cheerless 
farms,  until  they  got  into  the  beautiful  woods  and  avenues 
lying  around  Penzance.  When  they  came  in  sight  of  the 
broad  bay,  they  found  that  the  world  had  changed  its  colors 
since  the  morning.  The  sea  was  of  a  cold  purplish  gray ; 
but  all  around  it,  on  the  eastern  horizon,  there  was  a  band  of 
pale  pink  in  the  sky.  On  the  west,  again,  behind  Penzance, 
the  warm  hues  of  the  sunset  were  shining  behind  the  black 
stems  of  the  trees.  The  broad  thoroughfare  was  mostly  in 
shadow ;  and  the  sea  was  so  still  that  one  could  hear  the 
footsteps  and  the  voices  of  the  people  walking  up  and  down 
the  Parade. 

"  I  suppose  I  must  go  now,"  said  the  young  gentleman, 
when  he  had  seen  them  safely  seated  in  the  small  parlor  over- 
looking the  bay.     But  he  did  not  seem  anxious  to  go. 

"  But  why  go  ?  "  Wenna  said,  rather  timidly.  "  You  have 
no  engagement,  Mr.  Trelyon.  Would  you  care  to  stay  and 
have  dinner  with  us — such  a  dinner  as  we  can  give  you  I  " 

"  Well,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  should  like  it  very  much,"  he 
said. 


1 66  THREE  FEATHERS. 

Mrs.  Rosewarne,  a  little  surprised,  and  yet  glad  to  see 
Wenna  enjoying  herself,  regarded  the  whole  affair  with  a 
gentle  resignation.  Wenna  had  the  gas  lighted,  and  the  blinds 
let  down  ;  then,  as  the  evening  was  rather  cold,  she  had  soon 
a  bright  fire  burning  in  the  grate.  She  helped  to  lay  the  table. 
She  produced  such  wines  as  they  had.  She  made  sundry 
visits  to  the  kitchen  ;  and  at  length  the  banquet  was  ready. 

What  ailed  the  young  man  ?  He  seemed  beside  himself 
writh  careless  and  audacious  mirth ;  and  he  made  Mrs.  Rose- 
warne laugh  as  she  had  not  laughed  for  years.  It  was  in  vain 
that  Wenna  assumed  airs  to  rebuke  his  rudeness.  Nothing 
was  sacred  from  his  impertinence — not  even  the  offended 
majesty  of  her  face.  And  at  last  she  gave  in  too,  and  could 
only  revenge  herself  by  saying  things  of  him  which,  the  more 
severe  they  were,  the  more  he  seemed  to  enjoy.  But  after 
dinner  she  went  to  the  small  piano,  while  her  mother  took  a 
big  easy-chair  near  the  fire ;  and  he  sat  by  the  table,  appar- 
ently looking  over  some  books.  There  was  no  more  reck- 
less laughter  then. 

In  ancient  times — that  is  to  say,  in  the  half-forgotten  days 
of  our  youth — a  species  of  song  existed  which  exists  no  more. 
It  was  not  as  the  mournful  ballads  of  these  days,  which  seem 
to  record  the  gloomy  utterances  of  a  strange  young  woman 
who  has  apparently  wandered  into  the  magic  scene  "  Der 
Freischiitz,"  and  who  mixes  up  the  moanings  of  her  passion 
with  descriptions  of  the  sights  and  sounds  she  there  finds 
around  her.  It  was  of  quite  another  stamp.  It  dealt  with  a 
phraseology  of  sentiment  peculiar  to  itself — a  "  patter,"  as  it 
were,  which  came  to  be  universally  recognized  in  drawing- 
rooms.  It  spoke  of  maidens  plighting  their  troth,  of  Phyllis 
enchanting  her  lover  with  her  varied  moods,  of  marble  halls 
in  which  true  love  still  remained  the  same.  It  apostrophized 
the  shells  of  ocean  ;  it  tenderly  described  the  three  great  cri- 
ses of  a  particular  heroine's  life  by  mentioning  successive 
head-dresses  ;  it  told  of  how  the  lover  of  Pretty  Jane  would 
have  her  meet  him  in  the  evening.  Well,  all  the  world  was 
content  to  accept  this  conventional  phraseology  ;  and,  behind 
the  paraphernalia  of  "enchanted  moonbeams "  and  "fondest 
glances  "  and  "  adoring  sighs,"  perceived  and  loved  the  senti- 
ment that  could  find  no  simpler  utterance.  Some  of  us,  hear- 
ing the  half-forgotten  songs  again,  suddenly  forget  the  odd 
language,  and  the  old  pathos  springs  up  again,  as  fresh  as  in 
the  days  when  our  first  love  had  just  come  home  from  her 
boarding-school ;  while  others,  who  have  no  old-standing 
acquaintance  with  these  memorable  songs,  have  somehow  got 


LOVE-MAKING  A  T  LAND'S  END.  167 

attracted  to  them  by  the  mere  quaintness  of  their  speech  and 
the  simplicity  of  their  airs.  Master  Harry  Trelyon  was  no 
great  critic  of  music.  When  Wenna  Rosewarne  sang  that  night 
"  She  wore  a  wreath  of  roses,"  he  fancied  he  had  never  list- 
ened to  anything  so  pathetic.  When  she  sang  "  Meet  me  by 
moonlight  alone,"  he  was  delighted  with  the  spirit  and  half- 
humorous,  half-tender  grace  of  the  composition.  As  she  sang 
"  When  other  lips  and  other  eyes,"  it  seemed  to  him  that  there 
were  no  songs  like  the  old-fashioned  songs,  and  that  the 
people  who  wrote  those  ballads  were  more  frank  and  simple 
and  touching  in  their  speech  than  writers  nowadays.  Some- 
how, he  began  to  think  of  the  drawing-rooms  of  a  former  gen- 
eration ;  and  of  the  pictures  of  herself  his  grandmother  had 
drawn  for  him  many  a  time.  Had  she  a  high  waist  to  that 
white  silk  dress  in  which  she  ran  away  to  Gretna ;  and  did 
she  have  ostrich  feathers  on  her  head  ?  Anyhow,  he  entirely 
believed  what  she  had  told  him  of  the  men  of  that  generation. 
They  were  capable  of  doing  daring  things  for  the  sake  of  a 
sweetheart.  Of  course  his  grandfather  had  done  boldly  and 
well  in  whirling  the  girl  off  to  the  Scottish  borders  :  for  who 
could  tell  what  might  have  befallen  her  among  ill-natured  rela- 
tives and  persecuted  suitors  ? 

Wenna  Rosewarne  was  singing  "We  met,  'twas  in  a  crowd, 
and  I  thought  he  would  shun  me."  It  is  the  song  of  a  girl 
(must  one  explain  so  much  in  these  later  clays  ?)  who  is  in 
love  with  one  man,  and  has  been  induced  to  marry  another : 
she  meets  the  former,  and  her  heart  is  filled  with  shame  and 
anguish  and  remorse.  As  Wenna  sang  the  song,  it  seemed 
to  this  young  man  that  there  was  an  unusual  pathos  in  her 
voice  ;  and  he  was  so  carried  away  by  the  earnestness  of  her 
singing  that  his  heart  swelled  and  rose  up  within  him,  and 
he  felt  himself  ready  to  declare  that  such  should  not  be  her 
fate.  This  man  who  was  coming  back  to  marry  her — was 
there  no  one  ready  to  meet  him  and  challenge  his  atrocious 
claim  ?  Then  the  song  ended  :  and,  with  a  sudden  disap- 
pointment, Trelyon  recollected  that  he  at  least  had  no  busi- 
ness to  interfere.      What  right  had  he  to  think  of  saving  her  ? 

He  had  been  idly  turning  over  some  volumes  on  the  table. 
At  last  he  came  tc  a  Prayer-book,  of  considerable  size  and 
elegance  of  binding.  Carelessly  looking  at  the  fly-leaf,  he  saw 
that  it  was  a  present  to  Wenna  Rosewarne,  "  with  the  very 
dearest  love  of  her  sister  Mabyn."  He  passed  his  hand  over 
the  leaves,  not  noticing  what  he  was  doing ;  suddenly  he  saw 
something  which  effectually  startled  him  into  attention. 

It  was  a  sheet  ot  paper  with  two  slits  cut  into  it  at  top  and 


1 68  THREE  EEA  THERS. 

bottom.  In  these  a  carefully  pressed  piece  of  None-so-pretty 
had  been  placed,  and  just  underneath  the  flower  was  written 
in  pencil,  "  From  H.  T.  to  W.  R.,  May  2d,  18—."  He  shut 
the  book  quickly,  as  if  his  ringers  had  been  burned ;  and  then 
he  sat  quite  silent,  with  his  heart  beating  fast. 

So  she  had  kept  the  flower  he  had  put  in  the  basket  of  prim- 
roses. It  had  carried  its  message  ;  and  she  still  remained 
his  friend. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE    CUT    DIRECT. 


"  Well,  mother,"  Miss  Wenna  said  deliberately,  after  he 
had  gone,  "  I  never  did  see  you  so  thoroughly  enjoy  a  whole 
day." 

"  I  was  thinking  the  same  about  you,  Wenna,"  the  mother 
answered,  with  an  amused  look. 

"  That  is  true  enough,  mother,"  the  girl  confessed,  in  her 
simple  way.  "  He  is  so  good-natured,  so  full  of  spirits,  and 
careless,  that  one  gets  quite  as  careless  and  happy  as  himself. 
It  is  a  great  comfort,  mother,  to  be  with  anybody  who  doesn't 
watch  the  meaning  of  every  word  you  say — don't  you  think  so  ? 
And  I  hope  I  wasn't  rude — do  you  think  I  was  rude  ? " 

"  Why,  child,  I  don't  think  you  could  be  rude  to  a  fox  that 
was  eating  your  chickens.  You  would  ask  him  to  take  a  chair 
and  not  hurry  himself." 

"Well,  I  must  write  to  Mabyn  now,"  Wenna  said,  with  a 
business-like  air,  "  and  thank  her  for  posting  me  this  Prayer- 
book.  I  suppose  she  didn't  know  I  had  my  small  one  with 
me." 

She  took  up  the  book,  for  she  was  sitting  on  the  chair  that 
Harry  Trelyon  had  just  vacated.  She  had  no  sooner  done  so 
than  she  caught  sight  of  the  sheet  of  paper  with  the  dried 
flower  and  the  inscription  in  Mabyn's  handwriting.  She 
stared,  with  something  of  a  look  of  fear  on  her  face. 

"  Mother,"  she  said,  in  quite  an  altered  voice,  "did  you  no- 
tice if  Mr.  Trelyon  was  looking  at  this  Prayer-book  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure,"  Mrs.  Rosewarne  said.  "  I  should 
think  he  went  over  every  book  on  the  table." 

The  girl  said  nothing  ;  but  she  took  the  book  in  her  hand 
and  carried  it  up  to  her  own  room.  She  stood  for  a  moment 
irresolute  ;  then  she  took  the  sheet  of  paper  with  the  flowers 


THE  CUT  DIRECT.  169 

on  it,  and  tore  it  in  a  hundred  pieces,  and  threw  them  into  the 
empty  grate.  Then  she  cried  a  little — as  a  girl  must ;  and 
finally  went  down  again  and  wrote  a  letter  to  Mabyn  which 
rather  astonished  that  young  lady : 

"  My  dear  Mabyn  " — so  the  letter  ran — "  I  am  exceed- 
ingly angry  with  you.  I  did  not  think  you  were  capable  of 
such  folly — I  might  call  it  by  a  worse  name  if  I  thought  you 
really  meant  what  you  seem  to  mean.  I  have  just  torn  up  the 
worthless  scrap  of  flower  you  so  carefully  preserved  for  me  into 
a  thousand  pieces  ;  but  you  will  be  glad  to  know  that  in  all 
probability  Mr.  Trelyon  saw  it  on  the  paper,  and  the  initials, 
too,  which  you  put  there.  I  cannot  tell  you  how  pained  and 
angry  I  am.  If  he  did  place  that  flower  intentionally  among 
the  primroses,  it  was  most  impertinent  of  him  ;  but  he  is 
often  impertinent  in  joking.  What  must  he  think  of  me 
that  I  should  seem  to  have  taken  this  seriously,  and  treas- 
ured up  that  miserable  and  horrid  piece  of  weed,  and  put 
his  initials  below  it,  and  the  important  date  ?  You  put 
thoughts  into  my  head  that  cover  me  with  shame.  I  should 
not  be  fit  to  live  if  I  were  what  you  take  me  to  be  ?  If  I 
thought  there  was  another  human  being  in  the  world  who  could 
imagine  or  suspect  what  you  apparently  desire,  I  would  resolve 
this  moment  never  to  see  Mr.  Trelyon  again  ;  and  much  harm 
that  would  do  either  him  or  me  !  But  I  am  too  proud  to 
think  that  any  one  could  imagine  such  a  thing.  Nor  did  I 
expect  that  to  come  from  my  own  sister,  who  ought  to  know 
what  my  true  relations  are  with  regard  to  Mr.  Trelyon.  I  like 
him  very  much,  as  I  told  him  to  his  face  two  days  before  we 
left  Eglosilyan,  and  that  will  show  you  what  our  relations  are. 
I  think  he  is  very  frank,  generous,  and  good  young  man,  and 
a  clever  and  cheerful  companion  ;  and  my  mother  has  to-day 
to  thank  him  for  about  the  pleasantest  little  trip  she  has  ever 
enjoyed.  But  as  for  your  wishing  me  to  preserve  a  flower 
that  he  sent,  or  that  you  think  he  sent  to  me,  why,  I  feel  my 
face  burning  at  the  thought  of  what  you  suggest.  And  what 
can  I  say  to  him  now,  supposing  he  has  seen  it  ?  Can  I  tell 
him  that  my  own  sister  thought  such  things  of  me  ?  Perhaps, 
after  all,  the  simplest  way  to  set  matters  right  will  be  for  me 
to  break  off  the  acquaintance  altogether ;  and  that  will 
show  him  whether  I  was  likely  to  have  treasured  up  a  scrap 
of  London-pride  in  my  Prayer-book. 

"  I  am,  your  loving  sister, 

"Wenna  Rosewarne." 


170  THREE  FEATHERS. 

Meanwhile,  Harry  Trelyon  was  walking  up  and  down  the 
almost  empty  thoroughfare  by  the  side  of  the  sea  ;  the  stars 
overhead  shining  clearly  in  the  dark  night,  the  dimly  seen 
waves  falling  monotonously  on  the  shelving  beach. 

"  To  keep  a  flower,  that  is  nothing,"  he  was  saying  to  him- 
self. "All  girls  do  that,  no  matter  who  gives  it  to  them.  I 
suppose  she  has  lots  more,  all  with  the  proper  initials  and 
date  attached." 

It  was  not  an  agreeable  reflection;  he  turned  to  other 
matters. 

"  If  she  were  to  care  for  me  a  little  bit,  would  it  be  mean 
of  me  to  try  to  carry  her  off  from  that  man  ?  Is  it  possible 
that  he  has  the  same  regard  for  her  that  I  have  ?  In  that 
case  it  would  be  mean.  Now,  when  I  think  of  her,  the 
whole  world  seems  filled  with  her  presence  somehow,  and 
everything  is  changed.  When  I  hear  the  sea  in  the  morning, 
I  think  of  her,  and  wonder  where  she  is ;  when  I  see  a  fine 
day,  I  hope  she  is  enjoying  it  somewhere ;  the  whole  of  Pen- 
zance has  become  magical.  It  is  no  longer  the  same  town. 
I  used  to  come  to  it,  and  never  see  it,  in  the  old  days,  when 
one  was  busy  about  stables  and  the  pilchard-fishing  and  the 
reports  of  the  mines.  Now  the  whole  of  Penzance  has  got  a 
sort  of  charm  in  it,  since  Wenna  Rosewarne  has  come  to  it. 
I  look  "at  the  houses,  and  wonder  if  the  people  inside  know 
anybody  fit  to  compare  with  her  ;  and  one  becomes  grateful 
to  the  good  weather  for  shining  round  about  her  and  making 
her  happy.     I  suppose  the  weather  knows  what  she  deserves." 

Then  he  began  to  argue  the  question  as  to  whether  it 
would  be  fair  and  honorable  to  seek  to  take  away  from  an- 
other man  the  woman  who  had  pledged  herself  to  marry  him  ; 
and  of  course  an  easy  and  definite  decision  is  sure  to  be 
arrived  at  when  counsel  on  both  sides,  and  jury,  and  judges 
sitting  in  banco,  are  all  one  person,  who  conducts  and  closes 
the  case  as  it  suits  himself. 

He  began  by  assuming  such  facts  as  suited  his  arguments, 
and  ended  by  selecting  and  confirming  such  arguments  as 
suited  himself.  Wenna  Rosewarne  cared  nothing  for  Mr. 
Roscorla.  She  would  be  miserable  if  she  married  him  ;  her 
own  sister  was  continually  hinting  as  much.  Mr.  Roscorla 
cared  nothing  for  her  except  in  so  far  as  she  might  prove  a 
pretty  housewife  for  him.  The  selfishness  that  would  sacri- 
fice for  its  own  purposes  a  girl's  happiness  was  of  a  peculiar- 
ly despicable  sort  which  ought  to  be  combated,  and  deserved 
no  mercy.  Therefore,  and  because  of  all  these  things,  Harry 
Trelyon  was  justified  in  trying  to  win  Wenna  Rosewarne's 


THE  CUT  DIRECT.  171 

love.  One  by  one  the  people  who  had  been  strolling  up  and 
down  the  dark  thoroughfare  left  it;  he  was  almost  alone 
now.  He  walked  along  to  the  house  in  which  the  Rose- 
warnes  were.  There  was  no  light  in  any  of  the  windows. 
But  might  she  not  be  sitting  up  there  by  herself,  looking  out 
on  the  starlit  heavens  and  listening  to  the  waves  ?  He 
wished  to  be  able  to  say  good-night  to  her  once  more. 

How  soon  would  she  be  up  and  out  on  the  morrow  ? 
Early  in  the  morning,  when  the  young  day  was  rising  over 
the  gray  sea,  and  the  sea-winds  coming  freshly  in  as  if  they 
were  returning  from  the  cold  night  ?  If  he  could  but  see  her 
at  daybreak,  with  all  the  world  asleep  around  them,  and  with 
only  themselves  to  watch  the  growing  wonders  of  the  dawn, 
might  not  he  say  something  to  her  then  that  she  would  not 
be  vexed  to  hear,  and  persuade  her  that  a  new  sort  of  life 
lay  before  her  if  she  would  only  enter  it  along  with  him  ? 
That  was  the  notion  that  he  continually  dwelt  on  for  self- 
justification,  when  he  happened  to  take  the  trouble  to  justify 
himself.  The  crisis  of  this  girl's  life  was  approaching. 
Other  errors  might  be  retrieved ;  that  one,  once  committed, 
never.  If  he  could  only  see  her  now,  this  is  what  he  would 
say  :  "  We  can  'only  live  but  once,  We?ina  ;  and  this  for  us  two 
would  be  life — our  only  chance  of  it.  Whatever  else  may  hap- 
pen, that  is  110  viatter  ;  let  us  make  sure  of  this  one  chance,  and 
face  the  future  together,  you  fill  of  sweetness  and  trust,  I  hav- 
ing plenty  of  courage  for  both.  We  will  treat  objectors  and  ob- 
jections as  they  may  arise — afterwards  ;  perhaps  they  will  be 
prudent  and  keep  out  of  our  way."  And,  indeed,  he  con- 
vinced himself  that  this  was  Wenna  Rosewarne's  one  chance 
of  securing  happiness  for  her  life,  assuming,  in  a  way,  that 
he  had  love,  as  well  as  courage,  sufficient  for  both. 

He  was  early  up  next  morning,  and  down  on  the  prome- 
nade ;  but  the  day  was  not  likely  to  tempt  Wenna  to  come 
out  just  then.  A  gray  fog  hung  over  land  and  sea ;  the  sea 
itself  being  a  dull,  leaden  plain.  Trelyon  walked  about, 
however,  talking  to  everybody,  as  was  his  custom  ;  and  every- 
body said  the  fog  would  clear  and  a  fine  day  follow. 
This,  in  fact,  happened  ;  and  still  Wenna  did  not  make  her 
appearance.  The  fog  over  the  sea  seemed  to  separate  itself 
into  clouds;  there  was  a  dim,  yellow  light  in  the  breaks. 
These  breaks  widened  ;  there  was  a  glimmer  of  blue.  Then 
on  the  leaden  plain  a  glare  of  white  light  fell,  twinkling  in 
innumerable  stars  on  the  water.  Everything  promised  a 
clear,  bright  day. 

As  a  last  resource,  he  thought  he  would  go  and  get  Juliott 


172  THREE  FEATHERS. 

Penaluna,  and  persuade  that  young  lady  to  come  and  be 
introduced  to  the  Rosewarnes.  At  first  Miss  Penaluna 
refused  point-blank.  She  asked  him  how  he  could  expect 
her  to  do  such  a  thing.  But  then  her  Cousin  Harry  happened 
to  be  civil,  and  indeed  kind  in  his  manner  to  her  ;  and  when 
he  was  in  one  of  those  moods  there  was  nothing  she  could 
refuse  him.  She  went  and  got  ready  with  an  air  of  resigna- 
tion on  her  comely  face. 

"  Mind,  Harry,  I  am  not  responsible,"  she  said,  when  she 
came  back.  "  I  am  afraid  I  shall  get  into  awful  trouble 
about  it." 

"And  who  will  interfere  ?  "  said  the  young  man,  just  as  if 
he  were  looking  about  for  some  one  anxious  to  be  thrown 
from  the  top  of  the  tower  on  St.  Michael's  Mount. 

"  I  shall  be  accused  of  conniving,  you  know  ;  and  I  think 
I  am  very  good-natured  to  do  so  much  for  you,  Harry.''' 

"  I  think  you  are,  Jue ;  you  are  a  thoroughly  good  sort  of 
girl  when  you  like  to  be — that's  a  fact.  And  now  you  will  see 
whether  what  I  have  said  about  Miss  Rosewarne  is  all 
gammon  or  not." 

"  My  poor  boy,  I  wouldn't  say  a  word  against  her  for  the 
world.  Do  I  want  my  head  wrenched  off  ?  But  if  any  one 
says  anything  to  me  about  what  I  may  do  to  day,  I  shall 
have  to  tell  the  truth ;  and  do  you  know  what  that  is,  Harry  ? 
I  do  really  believe  you  are  in  love  with  that  girl,  past  all 
argument ;  and  there  never  was  one  of  your  family  who  would 
listen  to  reason.  I  know  quite  well  what  you  will  do.  If 
she  cares  ever  so  little  for  you,  you  will  marry  her  in  spite  of 
everybody,  and  probably  against  her  own  wish  ;  if  she  doesn't 
care  for  you,  you  will  revenge  yourself  on  the  happy  man  of 
her  choice,  and  probably  murder  him.  Well,  it  isn't  my  fault. 
I  know  what  your  mother  will  say — " 

"  Ah,  you  don't  know,  Jue,  what  my  mother  thinks  of  her," 
he  said  confidently. 

"  Oh  yes ;  mothers  think  very  well  of  a  girl  until  they  dis- 
cover that  she  is  going  to  marry  their  son." 

"  Oh,  stuff !  why,  the  inconsistency — " 

"  It  is  the  privilege  of  women  to  be  inconsistent,  Harry. 
Your  mother  will  detest  that  girl  if  you  try  to  marry  her." 

"  I  don't  care." 

"  Of  course  not.  No  man  of  your  family  cares  for  any- 
thing that  interferes  with  his  own  wishes.  I  suppose  there's 
no  use  in  my  trying  to  show  you  what  a  fearful  amount  of 
annoyance  and  trouble  you  are  preparing  for  yourself  ? " 

"  None ;  I'll  take  it  as  it  comes — I'm  not  afraid." 


THE  CUT  DIRECT. 


*73 


They  got  down  to  the  promenade  ;  the  forenoon  was  now 
bright  and  cheerful ;  a  good  many  folks  had  come  out  to 
enjoy  the  sunlight  and  the  cool  sea-breeze.  Miss  Juliott  was 
not  at  all  disinclined  to  walk  there  with  her  handsome  cousin, 
though  he  had  forgotten  his  gloves,  and  was  clearly  not  pay- 
ing her  very  special  attention. 

"  Jue,"  he  said,  suddenly,  "  I  can  see  Miss  Rosewarne — 
right  at  the  end  of  this  road — can't  you  ? " 

"  I  haven't  got  the  eyes  of  a  hawk,  you  stupid  boy,"  his 
cousin  said. 

"  Oh,  but  I  can  recognize  her  dress  a  dozen  times  as  far 
away.  These  are  her  pet  colors  at  present — a  soft  cream- 
color  and  black,  with  bits  of  dark  red — can  you  see  now  ?  " 

"  I  never  before  saw  you  pay  the  least  attention  to  a  lady's 
dress." 

"  Because  you  don't  know  how  she  dresses,"  he  said, 
proudly. 

She  was  coming  along  the  parade,  all  alone.    • 

"Well,  it  is  a  pretty  dress,"  Miss  Juliott  said,  "and  I 
like  the  look  of  her  face,  Harry.  You  can't  expect  one 
girl  to  say  any  more  than  that  of  another  girl,  can  you  ?  " 

"  This  is  a  very  nice  way  of  being  able  to  introduce  you," 
he  said.  "  I  suppose  you  will  be  able  to  chaperon  each  other 
afterwards,  when  her  mother  can't  go  out  ?  " 

Wenna  was  coming  quietly  along,  apparently  rather  pre- 
occupied. Sometimes  she  looked  out,  with  her  dark,  earnest, 
and  yet  wistful  eyes,  at  the  great  plain  of  water  quivering  in 
the  sunshine ;  she  paid  little  heed  to  the  people  who  went 
by.  When,  at  length,  she  did  see  Harry  Trelyon,  she  was 
quite  near  him,  and  she  had  just  time  to  glance  for  a  moment 
at  his  companion.  The  next  moment — he  could  not  tell  how 
it  all  happened — she  passed  him  with  a  slight  bow  of  recog- 
nition, courteous  enough,  but  nothing  more.  There  was  no 
especial  look  of  friendliness  in  her  eyes. 

He  stood  there,  rather  bewildered. 

"  That  is  as  good  as  the  cut  direct,  Harry,"  his  cousin  said. 
"  Come  along — don't  stand  there." 

"  Oh,  but  there's  some  mistake,  Jue,"  he  said. 

"  A  girl  never  does  a  thing  of  that  sort  by  mistake.  Either 
she  is  vexed  with  you  for  walking  with  me — and  that  is  im- 
probable, for  I  doubt  whether  she  saw  me — or  she  thinks 
the  ardor  of  your  acquaintance  should  be  moderated,  and 
there  I  should  agree  with  her.  You  don't  seem  so  vexed  as 
one  might  have  expected,  Harry." 


i74  THREE  FEATHERS. 

"  Vexed  ! "  he  said.  "  Why,  can't  you  tell  by  that  girl's 
face  that  she  could  do  nothing  capricious  or  unkind  ?  Of 
course  she  has  a  reason ;  and  I  will  find  it  out." 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

NOT   THE    LAST    WORD. 

As  soon  as  he  could  decently  leave  his  cousin  at  home,  he 
did  ;  and  then  he  walked  hastily  down  to  the  house  in  which 
Mrs.  Rosewarne  had  taken  rooms.  Miss  Rosewarne  was 
not  at  home,  the  small  maid-servant  said.  Was  Mrs.  Rose- 
warne ?     Yes  ;  so  he  would  see  her. 

He  went  up-stairs,  never  thinking  how  his  deep  trouble 
about  so  insignificant  an  incident  would  strike  a  third  per- 
son. 

"  Mrs.  Rosewarne,"  he  said,  right  out,  "  I  want  you  to  tell 
me  if  Wenna  wishes  our  acquaintance  to  end.  Has  she  been 
speaking  to  you  ?  Just  now  she  passed  me  in  the  street  as  if 
she  did  not  wish  to  see  me  again." 

"  Probably,"  replied  Mrs.  Rosewarne,  amused  as  well  as 
surprised  by  the  young  man's  impetuosity,  "  she  did  not  see 
you,  then.  Wenna  often  passes  people  so.  Most  likely  she 
was  thinking  about  other  things  ;  for  she  had  another  letter 
from  Jamaica  just  before  she  went  out." 

"  Oh,  she  has  had  another  letter  from  Jamaica  this  morn- 
ing !  "  Trelyon  said,  with  an  angry  light  appearing  in  his 
eyes.     "  That  is  it,  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  Mrs.  Rosewarne  was  saying, 
when  both  of  them  heard  Wenna  enter  below. 

"  Mrs.  Rosewarne,"  he  said,  with  a  sudden  entreaty  in  his 
voice,  "  would  you  mind  letting  me  see  Wenna  alone  for  a 
couple  of  minutes  ?  I  want  to  ask  her  if  she  is  offended  with 
me — -you  won't  mind,  will  you  ?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  she  said,  good-naturedly ;  and  then 
she  added,  at  the  door,  "  Mind,  Mr.  Trelyon,  Wenna  is 
easily  hurt.     You  must  speak  gently  to  her." 

About  a  minute  afterward,  Wenna,  having  laid  her  hat  and 
shawl  aside,  came  into  the  room.  When  she  found  Trelyon 
there,  alone,  she  almost  shrank  back,  and  her  face  paled 
somewhat ;  then  she  forced  herself  to  go  forward  and  shake 
hands  with  him,  though  her  face  still  wore  a  frightened  and 
constrained  look. 


NOT  THE  LAST  WORD. 


175 


"Werma,"  he  said,  "don't  go  away.  I  want  to  speak  to 
you  for  a  minute.  You  are  offended  with  me  about  something, 
and  I  want  you  to  tell  me  why.  If  you  wish  our  friendship 
to  cease,  say  so,  and  I  will  obey  you  ;  but  you  must  tell  me 
why  first." 

"  I  am  not  offended  with  you,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said,  in  a 
low  and  nervous  voice.  "  Do  not  think  that.  But — but  I 
think  it  will  be  better  if  you  will  let  our  friendship  cease,  as 
you  say." 

For  a  second  he  stared  :  then  something  of  firmness  came 
about  his  mouth. 

"Oh  no,"  he  said,  "  I  will  not,  in  this  fashion.  You've 
got  to  tell  me  what  is  the  matter  first.  Now  remember  this. 
Not  very  long  ago  you  chose  to  quarrel  with  me  about 
nothing — absolutely  about  nothing.  You  know  quite  well 
that  I  meant  no  harm  to  you  by  lending  Mr.  Roscorla  that 
money ;  yet  you  must  needs  flare  up  and  give  it  to  me  as  hot 
as  you  could,  all  for  nothing  What  could  I  do  ?  Why,  only 
wait  until  you  saw  what  a  mistake  you  had  made." 

"  It  was  very  wrong  of  me,"  she  said.  "  I  ask  your  for- 
giveness. But  now  it  is  quite  different.  I  am  not  angry 
with  you  at  all.  I  should  like  to  remain  your  friend;  and 
yet  I  think  it  better  not.  I — I  cannot  explain  to  you,  Mr. 
Trelyon  ;  and  I  am  sure  you  won't  ask  me,  when  I  say  so." 

He  looked  at  her  for  a  moment,  and  then  he  said,  gently 
and  yet  firmly — 

"  Look  here,  Wenna.  You  think  I  am  only  a  boy.  That 
may  or  may  not  be  ;  but  I  am  going  to  talk  reasonably  to 
you  for  once.  Come  over  to  this  chair  by  the  window,  and 
sit  down." 

She  followed  him  in  passive  obedience.  She  took  the  one 
chair,  he  the  other. 

"  Perhaps  I  am  only  a  boy,"  he  said ;  "  but  I  have 
knocked  about  a  good  deal,  and  I  have  kept  my  eyes  as  wide 
open  as  most  folks.  I  suppose  ill-natured  people  might  say 
that,  as  I  had  nothing  to  do  at  Eglosilyan,  I  wanted  to  have 
a  flirtation  with  the  only  girl  who  was  handy.  I  know  better. 
Year  after  year  I  saw  more  and  more  of  you,  bit  by  bit ;  and 
that  after  I  had  been  abroad  or  living  in  other  places  in  Eng- 
land from  time  to  time.  I  got  to  believe  that  I  had  never 
seen  anywhere  any  girl  or  woman  who  was  so  honest  as  you 
are,  and  good  in  a  dozen  secret  ways  that  needed  a  deal  of 
discovering.  I  found  out  far  more  about  you  than  you  im- 
agined. I  heard  of  you  in  cottages  that  you  never  knew  I 
was  in  :  and  everything  I  heard  made  me  respect  you  more 


1 76  THREE  FEATHERS. 

and  more.  Mind  this,  too.  I  had  no  sort  of  personal  liking 
for  the  sort  of  thing  you  were  doing.  I  don't  admire  muggy 
little  rooms,  and  poverty  and  sick  people,  as  appealing  to  a 
fine  sentiment.  There  never  was  anything  of  the  parson  or  of 
the  benevolent  old  lady  about  me.  I  would  rather  give  half 
a  crown  to  an  impertinent  little  school-boy  who  had  just 
whopped  another  boy  bigger  than  himself  than  give  a  half- 
penny tract  to  a  sickly  infant  in  its  mother's  arms  ;  that's 
original  sin  in  me,  I  suppose.  But  all  that  squalid  sort  of 
work  you  were  in  only  made  the  jewel  shine  the  more.  I 
used  to  think  I  should  like  to  marry  a  very  grand  woman, 
who  could  be  presented  at  Court  without  a  tremor,  who  would 
come  into  a  drawing-room  as  if  she  were  conferring  a  favor 
on  the  world  at  large  ;  and  I  certainly  never  thought  I  should 
find  the  best  woman  I  had  ever  seen  in  back-kitchens  sew- 
ing pinafores  for  children.  And  then,  when  1  found  her 
there,  wasn't  it  natural  I  should  put  some  store  by  her 
friendship  ?  I  suppose  you  didn't  know  what  I  thought  of 
you,  Wenna,  because  I  kept  chaffing  you  and  'Mabyn  ?  I 
have  told  you  something  of  it  now  ;  and  now  I  want  you  to 
say  whether  you  have  a  right  to  shunt  me  off  like  this  with- 
out a  word  of  explanation." 

She  sat  quite  still,  silent  and  nervous.  The  rude  and  im- 
petuous eloquence  of  his  speech,  broken  by  many  a  hesita- 
ting stammer  had  touched  her.  There  was  more  thoughtful- 
ness  and  tenderness  in  this  wild  lad  than  she  had  supposed. 

"  How  can  I  explain  ?  "  she  burst  out,  suddenly.  tk  I 
should  cover  myself  with  shame  !  " 

"  And  what  have  you  to  be  ashamed  of  ?  "  he  said,  with  a 
stare. 

The  distress  she  was  obviously  suffering  was  so  great  that 
he  had  almost  a  mind  to  take  her  at  her  word,  and  leave  the 
house  without  further  ado.  Just  at  this  moment,  when  he 
was  considering  what  would  be  the  most  generous  tiling  to 
do,  she  seemed  to  nerve  herself  to  speak  to  him,  and  in  a 
low  and  measured  voice  she  said — 

"Yes,  I  will  tell  you.  I  have  had  a  letter  this  morning 
from  Mr.  Roscorla.  He  asks  me  if  it  is  true  that  you  are 
paying  me  such  attention  that  people  notice  it ;  and  he  asks 
me  if  that  is  how  I  keep  my  promise  to  him." 

Something  like  a  quiver  of  rage  passed  through  the  young 
man  at  this  moment,  but  his  teeth  were  kept  firmly  together. 
She  did  not  look  up  to  his  face. 

"  That  is  not  all.  I  must  tell  you  that  I  was  deeply  shocked 
and  grieved  by  this  letter  ;  but  on  looking  back  over  the  past 


NOT  THE  LAST  WORD  177 

six  weeks  I  think  a  suspicious  person  might  have  been  justi- 
fied in  complaining  to  Mr.  Roscorla.  And — and — and,  Mr. 
Trelyon,  did  you  see  that  dried  flower  in  my  Prayer-book 
last  night  ?  " 

Her  resolution  was  fast  ebbing  away ;  he  could  see  that 
her  hands  were  clasped  piteously  together. 

"  Yes,  I  did,"  he  said,  boldly. 

"  And  oh  !  what  could  you  have  thought  of  me  !  "  she  cried, 
in  her  distress.  "  Indeed,  Mr.  Trelyon,  it  was  all  a  mistake. 
I  did  not  keep  the  flower — I  did  not,  indeed.  And  when  I 
thought  you  had  seen  it,  I  could  have  died  for  shame." 

"  And  why  ?  "  he  said,  in  a  way  that  made  her  lift  up  her 
startled  eyes  to  his  face.  There  was  a  strange  look  there, 
as  of  a  man  who  had  suddenly  resolved  to  dare  his  fate. 
"  For  you  have  been  frank  with  me,  and  so  will  I  be  with  you. 
Why  should  you  not  have  kept  that  flower  ?  Yes,  I  sent  it  to 
you ;  and  with  all  the  purpose  that  such  a  thing  could  carry. 
Yes,  you  may  be  as  angry  as  you  please  ;  only  listen,  Wenna. 
You  don't  love  that  man  whom  you  are  engaged  to  marry ; 
you  know  in  your  heart  that  you  do  not  believe  in  his  love 
for  you ;  and  are  you  surprised  that  people  should  wish  to 
have  you  break  off  an  engagement  that  will  only  bring  you 
misery  ? " 

"  Mr.  Trelyon  !  " 

';  Wenna,  one  minute — you  must  hear  me.  Do  with  my 
offer  what  you  like — only  here  it  is  ;  give  me  the  power  to 
break  off  this  engagement,  and  I  will.  Give  me  the  right  to 
do  that !  Don't  mind  me  in  the  matter.  It  is  true  I  love  you 
— there,  I  will  say  it  again  :  there  is  nothing  I  think  of  from 
morning  till  night  but  my  love  for  you ;  and  if  you  would  say 
that  some  time  I  might  ask  you  to  be  my  wife,  you  would 
give  me  more  happiness  than  you  could  dream  of.  But  I 
don't  wish  that  now.  I  will  remain  your  friend,  if  you  like, 
Wenna ;  only  let  me  do  this  thing  for  you  ;  and  when  you  are 
free,  you  can  then  say  Yes  or  No." 

She  rose,  not  proud  and  indignant,  but  weeping  bitterly. 

"I  have  deserved  this,"  she  said,  apparently  overwhelmed 
with  mortification  and  self-reproach.  "  I  have  earned  this 
shame,  and  I  must  bear  it.  I  do  not  blame  you,  Mr.  Trelyon 
— it  is  I  who  have  done  this.  How  many  weeks  is  it  since 
the  man  left  England  to  whom  I  promised  to  be  faithful  ? 
and  already — but  this  I  can  do,  Mr.  Trelyon :  I  will  bid  you 
good-bye  now,  and  I  will  never  see  you  again." 

Her  face  was  quite  pale.     She  held  out  her  hand. 

'*  No,''  he  said  firmly.     "  We  do  not  part  like  that,  Wenna. 


I  ;8  THREE  FEATHERS. 

First,  let  me  say  that  you  have  nothing  to  accuse  yourself  of. 
You  have  done  nothing,  and  said  nothing,  of  which  any  man, 
however  mean  and  suspicious,  could  complain.  Perhaps  I 
was  too  hasty  in  speaking  of  my  love  for  you.  In  that  case 
I've  got  to  pay  for  my  folly." 

"  And  it  is  folly,  Mr  Trelyon  !  "  she  said,  passionately, 
and  yet  with  nothing  but  tenderness  in  her  face.  "  How 
could  you  have  thought  of  marrying  me  ?  Why,  the  future 
that  ought  to  lie  before  you  is  far  more  than  you  can  imagine 
yet ;  and  you  would  go  and  hamper  it  by  marrying  an  inn- 
keeper's daughter  !  It  is  folly,  indeed  ;  and  you  will  see  that 
very  soon.  But — but  I  am  very  sorry  all  this  has  occurred  ; 
it  is  another  grief  to  me  that  I  have  troubled  you.  I  think 
I  was  born  to  bring  grief  to  all  my  friends." 

He  was  anxiously  debating  what  he  should  do ;  and  he 
needed  all  his  wits  at  that  moment,  for  his  own  feelings  were 
strong  within  him,  and  clamoring  for  expression.  Would  he 
insist  ?  WTould  he  bear  down  all  opposition  ?  Happily, 
quieter  counsels  prevailed ;  for  there  was  no  mistaking  the 
absolute  truthfulness  of  what  the  girl  had  said. 

"Well,  Wenna,"  he  said,  "I  will  do  anything  you  like,  only 
to  remain  your  friend.  Is  that  possible  ?  Will  you  forgive 
all  that  I  have  said  if  I  make  you  a  promise  not  to  repeat  it, 
and  never  again  to  mention  your  engagement  to  Mr.  Ros- 
corla  ? " 

"  No,  we  must  part  now  altogether,"  she  said  slowly.  Then, 
by  haphazard,  she  glanced  up  at  his  face  for  a  moment,  and 
there  was  a  great  sadness  in  her  eyes.  "  It  is  a  hard  thing 
to  part.  Perhaps  it  will  not  be  necessary  that  you  should 
never  come  to  see  me.  But  we  must  not  be  friends  as  we 
have  been ;  for  I  have  my  duty  to  do  towards  him." 

"  Then  I  may  come  to  see  you  sometimes  ?  " 

She  hesitated. 

"  You  may  come  to  see  my  mother  sometimes.  And  I  will 
always  think  of  you  as  a  dear  friend,  whether  I  see  you  or  not." 

He  went  outside,  and  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  I  had  to  keep  a  tight  grip  on  the  reins  that  time,"  he  was 
thinking  to  himself;  "  a  precious  tight  grip;  but  I  did  it." 

He  thought  of  the  look  there  was  in  her  eyes  when  she 
finally  bid  him  good-bye.  His  face  grew  the  happier  as  he 
thought  of  it.  He  was  clearly  not  at  all  downhearted  about 
his  rejection  ;  on  the  contrary,  he  went  and  told  his  Cousin 
Juliott  that  the  little  affair  of  the  morning  had  been  quite  sat- 
isfactorily arranged ;  that  Miss  Wenna  and  he  were  very  good 


A  PERILOUS  TRUCE.  179 

friends  again  ;  and  that  it  was  quite  a  mistake  to  imagine  that 
she  was  already  married  to  Mr.  Roscorla. 

"  Harry,"  said  his  cousin,  "  I  strictly  forbid  you  to  mention 
that  gentleman's  name." 

"  Why,  Jue  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Because  I  will  not  listen  to  the  bad  language  you  invari- 
ably use  whenever  you  speak  of  him ;  and  you  ought  to  re- 
member that  you  are  in  a  clergyman's  house.  I  wonder  Miss 
Rosewarne  is  not  ashamed  to  have  your  acquaintance  ;  but  I 
dare  say  you  amend  your  ways  when  you  are  in  her  presence. 
She'll  have  plenty  to  reform  if  ever  she  takes  you  for  a  hus- 
band." 

"  That's  true  enough,  Jue,"  the  young  man  said,  penitently. 
"  I  believe  I'm  a  bad  lot ;  but  then,  look  at  the  brilliant  con- 
trast which  the  future  will  present.  You  know  that  my  old 
grandmother  is  always  saying  to  me,  'Harry,  you  were  born 
with  as  many  manners  as  most  folks ;  and  you've  used  none ; 
so  you'll  have  a  rare  stock  to  come  and  go  on  when  you  begin.'  " 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

A   PERILOUS    TRUCE. 

The  very  stars  in  their  courses  seemed  to  fight  for  this 
young  man. 

No  sooner  had  Wenna  Rosewarne  fled  to  her  own  room, 
there  to  think  over  in  a  wild  and  bewildered  way  all  that  had 
just  happened,  than  her  heart  smote  her  sorely.  She  had  not 
acted  prudently.  She  had  forgotten  her  self-respect.  She 
ought  to  have  forbidden  him  to  come  near  her  again — at  least 
until  such  time  as  this  foolish  fancy  of  his  should  have  passed 
away  and  been  forgotten. 

How  could  she  have  parted  with  him  so  calmly,  and  led 
him  to  suppose  that  their  former  relations  were  unaltered  ? 
She  looked  back  on  the  forced  quietude  of  her  manner,  and 
was  herself  astonished,  Now  her  heart  was  beating  rapidly ; 
her  trembling  fingers  were  unconsciously  twisting  and  untwist- 
ing a  bit  of  ribbon  ;  her  head  seemed  giddy  with  the  recollec- 
tion of  that  brief  and  strange  interview.  Then,  somehow,  she 
thought  of  the  look  on  his  face  when  she  told  him  that  hence- 
forth they  must  be  strangers  to  each  other.  It  seemed  hard 
that  he  should  be  badly  used  for  what  was,  perhaps,  no  inten- 


i So  THREE  FEATHERS. 

tional  fault.  If  anybody  had  been  in  fault,  it  was  herself,  in 
being  blind  to  a  possibility  to  which  even  her  own  sister  had 
drawn  her  attention ;  and  so  the  punishment  ought  to  fall  on 
her. 

She  would  humble  herself  before  Mr.  Roscorla.  She  would 
force  herself  to  be  affectionate  towards  him  in  her  letters. 
She  would  even  write  to  Mabyn,  and  beg  of  her  to  take  no 
notice  of  that  angry  remonstrance. 

Then  Wenna  thought  of  her  mother,  and  how  she  ought  to 
tell  her  of  all  these  things.  But  how  could  she  ?  During  the 
past  clay  or  two  Mrs.  Rosewarne  had  been  at  times  singularly 
fretful  and  anxious.  No  letter  had  come  from  her  husband. 
In  vain  did  Wenna  remind  her  that  men  were  more  careless 
of  such  small  matters  than  women,  and  that  it  was  too  soon 
to  expect  her  father  to  sit  down  and  write.  Mrs.  Rosewarne 
sat  brooding  over  her  husband's  silence  ;  then  she  would  get 
up  in  an  excited  fashion  and  declare  her  intention  of  going 
straight  back  to  Eglosilyan  ;  and  these  fitful  moods  preyed  on 
the  health  of  the  invalid.  Ought  Wenna  to  risk  increasing 
her  anxiety  by  telling  her  this  strange  tale  ?  She  would  doubt- 
less misunderstand  it.  She  might  be  angry  with  Harry  Trel- 
yon.  She  would  certainly  be  surprised  that  Wenna  had 
given  him  permission  to  see  her  again — not  knowing  that  the 
girl,  in  her  forced  composure,  had  been  talking  to  him  as  if 
this  avowal  of  his  were  of  no  great  moment. 

All  the  same  Wenna  had  a  secret  fear  that  she  had  been 
imprudent  in  giving  him  this  permission  ;  and  the  most  she 
could  do  now  was  to  make  his  visits  as  few,  short,  and  cere- 
monious as  possible.  She  would  avoid  him  by  every  means 
in  her  power ;  and  the  first  thing  was  to  make  sure  that  he 
should  not  call  on  them  again  while  they  remained  in  Pen- 
zance. 

So  she  went  down  to  the  small  parlor  in  a  much  more 
equable  frame  of  mind,  though  her  heart  was  still  throbbing 
in  an  unusual  way.  The  moment  she  entered  the  room  she 
saw  that  something  had  occurred  to  disturb  her  mother. 
Mrs.  Rosewarne  turned  from  the  window,  and  there  was  an 
excited  look  in  her  eyes. 

"  Wenna,"  she  said,  hurriedly,  "  did  you  see  that  carriage  ? 
Did  you  see  that  woman  ?  Who  was  with  her  ?  Did  you 
see  who  was  with  her  ?  I  know  it  was  she — not  if  I  live  a 
hundred  years  could  I  forget  that — that  devil  in  human 
shape ! " 

"  Mother,  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  Wenna  said, 
wholly  aghast. 


A  PERILOUS  TRUCE.  181 

Her  mother  had  gone  to  the  window  again,  and  she  was 
saying  to  herself,  hurriedly  and  in  a  low  voice — 

"  No,  you  don't  know ;  you  don't  know — why  should  you 
know  ?  That  shameless  creature  !  And  to  drive  by  here — she 
must  have  known  I  was  here.  Oh,  the  shamelessness  of 
the  woman  !  " 

She  turned  to  Wenna  again. 

"Wenna,  I  thought  Mr.  Trelyon  was  here.  How  long 
has  he  been  gone  ?  I  want  to  see  him  most  particularly — 
most  particularly,  and  only  for  a  moment.  He  is  sure  to 
know  all  the  strangers  at  his  hotel,  is  he  not  ?  I  want  to  ask 
him  some  questions — Wenna,  will  you  go  at  once  and  bid 
him  come  to  see  me  for  a  moment  ?  " 

"  Mother  !  "  Wenna  said — how  could  she  go  to  the  hotehwith 
such  a  message  ? 

"Well,  send  a  note  to  him,  Wenna — send  a  note  by  the 
girl  down-stairs.     What  harm  is  there  in  that  ?  " 

"  Lie  down  then,  mother,"  said  the  girl  calmly,  "  and  I  will 
send  a  message  to  Mr.  Trelyon." 

She  drew  her  chair  to  the  table,  and  her  cheeks  crimsoned 
to  think  of  what  he  might  imagine  this  letter  to  mean  when 
he  got  the  envelope  in  his  hands.  Her  fingers  trembled  as 
she  wrote  the  date  at  the  head  of  the  note.  Then  she  came 
to  the  word  "  Dear,"  and  it  seemed  to  her  that  if  shame  were 
a  punishment,  she  was  doing  sufficient  penance  for  her  indis- 
cretion of  that  morning.  Yet  the  note  was  not  a  compromis- 
ing one.  It  merely  said,  "  Dear  Mr.  Trelyon, — If  you  have 
a  moment  to  spare,  my  mother  would  be  most  obliged  to  you 
if  you  would  call  on  her.  I  hope  you  will  forgive  the  trouble. 
— Yours  sincerely,  Wenna  Rosewarne." 

When  the  young  man  got  that  note — he  was  just  entering 
the  hotel  when  the  servant  arrived — he  stared  with  surprise. 
He  told  the  girl  he  would  call  on  Mrs.  Rosewarne  directly. 
Then  he  followed  her. 

He  never  for  a  moment  doubted  that  this  note  had  refer- 
ence to  his  own  affairs.  Wenna  had  told  her  mother  what 
had  happened.  The  mother  wished  to  see  him  to  ask  him  to 
cease  visiting  them.  Well,  he  was  prepared  for  that.  He 
would  ask  Wenna  to  leave  the  room.  He  would  attack  the 
mother  boldly,  and  tell  her  what  he  thought  of  Mr.  Roscorla. 
He  would  appeal  to  her  to  save  her  daughter  from  the  im- 
pending marriage.  He  would  win  her  over  to  be  his  secret 
ally  and  friend  ;  and  while  nothing  should  be  done  precipi- 
tately to  alarm  Wenna  or  arouse  her  suspicions,  might  not 
these  two  carry  the   citadel  of  her  heart  in   time,  and  hand 


1 82  THREE  FEATHERS. 

over  the  keys  to  the  rightful  lord  ?  It  was  a  pleasant  specu- 
lation ;  it  was  at  least  marked  by  that  audacity  that  never 
wholly  forsook  Master  Harry  Trelyon.  Of  course,  he  was 
the  rightful  lord ;  ready  to  bid  all  false  claimants,  rivals,  and 
pretenders  beware. 

And  yet,  as  he  walked  up  to  the  house,  some  little  tremor 
of  anxiety  crept  into  his  heart.  It  was  no  mere  game  of  brag 
in  which  he  was  engaged.  As  he  went  into  the  parlor, 
Wenna  stepped  quietly  by  him,  her  eyes  downcast ;  and  he 
knew  that  all  he  cared  to  look  forward  to  in  the  world  de- 
pended on  the  decision  of  that  quiet  little  person  with  the 
sensitive  mouth  and  the  earnest  eyes.  Fighting  was  not  of 
much  use  there. 

"Weil,  Mrs.  Rosewarne,"  said  he,  rather  shamefacedly,  "I 
suppose  you  mean  to  scold  me  ?  " 

Her  answer  surprised  him.  She  took  no  heed  of  his  re- 
mark, but  in  a  vehement,  excited  way  began  to  ask  him 
questions  about  a  woman  whom  she  described.  He  stared  at 
her. 

"  I  hope  you  don't  know  anything  about  that  elegant 
creature  ?  "  he  said. 

She  did  not  wholly  tell  him  the  story,  but  left  him  to  guess 
at  some  portions  of  it ;  and  then  she  demanded  to  know  all 
about  the  woman  and  her  companion,  and  how  long  they  had 
been  in  Penzance,  and  where  they  were  going.  Master  Har- 
ry was  by  chance  able  to  reply  to  certain  of  her  questions. 
The  answers  comforted  her  greatly.  Was  he  quite  sure  that 
she  was  married  ?  What  was  her  husband's  name  ?  She  was 
no  longer  Mrs.  Shirley  ?  Would  he  find  out  all  he  could  ? 
Would  he  forgive  her  asking  him  to  take  all  this  trouble  ;  and 
would  he  premise  to  say  no  word  about  it  to  Wenna  ? 

When  all  this  had  been  said  and  done,  the  young  man  felt 
himself  considerably  embarrassed.  Was  there  to  be  no  men- 
tion of  his  own  affairs  ?  So  far  from  remonstrating  with  him 
and  forbidding  him  the  house,  Mrs.  Rosewarne  was  almost 
effusively  grateful  to  him,,  and  could  only  beg  him  a  thousand 
times  not  to  mention  the  subject  to  her  daughter. 

"  Oh,  of  course  not,"  said  he,  rather  bewildered.  "  But — 
but  I  thought  from  the  way  in  which  she  left  the  room  that — 
that  perhaps  I  had  offended  her." 

"Oh  no,  I  am  sure  that  is  not  the  case,"  said  Mrs.  Rose- 
warne, and  she  immediately  went  and  called  Wenna,  who 
came  into  the  room  with  rather  an  anxious  look  on  her  face, 
but  she  immediately  perceived  the  change  in  her  mother's 
mood.     The  demon  of  suspicion  and  jealousy  had  teen  as 


A    PERILOUS  TRUCE.  183 

suddenly  exorcised  as  it  had  been  summoned.  Mrs.  Rose- 
warne's  fine  eyes  were  lit  by  quite  a  new  brightness  and  gay- 
ety  of  spirits.  She  bade  Wenr.a  declare  what  fearful  cause 
of  offence  Mr.  Trelyon  had  given  ;  and  laughed  when  the 
young  man,  blushing  somewhat,  hastily  assured  both  of  them 
that  it  was  all  a  stupid  mistake  of  his  own. 

"  Oh  yes,"  Wenna  said,  rather  nervously,  "  it  is  a  mistake. 
I  am  sure  you  have  given  me  no  offence  at  all,  Mr.  Trelyon." 

It  was  an  embarrassing  moment  for  two,  at  least,  out  of 
these  three  persons  ;  and  Mrs.  Rosewarne,  in  her  abundant 
good-nature,  could  not  understand  their  awkward  silence. 
Wenna  was  apparently  looking  out  of  the  window  at  the  bright 
blue  bay  and  the  boats  ;  and  yet  the  girl  was  not  ordinarily 
so  occupied  when  Mr.  Trelyon  was  present.  As  for  him,  he 
had  got  his  hat  in  his  hands  ;  he  seemed  to  be  much  con- 
cerned about  it,  or  about  his  boots ;  one  did  not  often  find 
Harry  Trelyon  actually  showing  shyness. 

At  last  he  said,  desperately — 

"  Mrs.  Rosewarne,  perhaps  you  would  go  out  for  a  sail  in 
the  afternoon  ?  I  could  get  you  a  nice  little  yacht,  and  some 
rods  and  lines.     Won't  you  ?  " 

Mrs.  Rosewarne  was  in  a  kindly  humor.  She  said  she 
would  be  very  glad  to  go,  for  Wenna  was  growing  tired  of 
always  sitting  by  the  window.  This  would  be  some  little 
variety  for  her. 

"  I  hope  you  won't  consider  me,  mother,"  said  the  young 
lady  quickly,  and  with  some  asperity.  "  I  am  quite  pleased 
to  sit  by  the  window — I  could  do  so  always.  And  it  is  very 
wrong  of  us  to  take  up  so  much  of  Mr.  Trelyon's  time." 

"  Because  Mr.  Trelyon's  time  is  of  so  much  use  to  him," 
said  that  young  man,  with  a  laugh ;  and  then  he  told  them 
when  to  expect  him  in  the  afternoon,  and  went  his  way. 

He  was  in  much  better  spirits  when  he  went  out.  He 
whistled  as  he  went.  The  plash  of  the  blue  sea  all  along  the 
shingle  seemed  to  have  a  sort  of  laugh  in  it ;  he  was  in  love 
with  Penzance  and  all  its  beautiful  neighborhood.  Once 
again,  he  was  saying  to  himself,  he  would  spend  a  quiet  and 
delightful  afternoon  with  Wenna  Rosewarne,  even  if  that  were 
to  be  the  last.  He  would  surrender  himself  to  the  gentle  intoxi- 
cation of  her  presence.  He  would  get  a  glimpse,  from  time 
to  time,  of  her  dark  eyes  when  she  was  looking  wistfully  and 
absently  over  the  sea.  It  was  no  breach  of  the  implied  con- 
tract with  her  that  he  should  have  seized  this  occasion.  He 
had  been  sent  for.  And  if  it  was  necessary  that  he  should 
abstain  from  seeing  her  for   any  great  length  of  time,  why 


184  THREE  FEA  TITERS. 

this  single  afternoon  would  not  make  much  difference. 
Afterwards  he  would  obey  her  wishes  in  any  manner  she 
pleased. 

He  walked  into  the  hotel.  There  was  a  gentleman  stand- 
ing in  the  hall  whose  acquaintance  Master  Harry  had  conde- 
scended to  make.  He  was  a  person  of  much  money,  uncertain 
grammar,  and  oppressive  generosity  ;  he  wore  a  frilled  shirt 
and  diamond  studs,  and  he  had  such  a  vast  admiration  for 
this  handsome,  careless,  and  somewhat  rude  young  man  that 
he  would  have  been  very  glad  had  Mr.  Trelyon  dined  with 
him  every  evening,  and  taken  the  trouble  to  win  any  reason- 
able amount  of  money  of  him  at  billiards  afterwards.  Mr. 
Trelyon  had  not  as  yet  graced  his  table. 

"  Oh,  Grainger,"  said  the  young  man,  "  I  want  to  speak  to 
you.     Will  you  dine  with  me  to-night  at  eight  ? " 

"  No,  no,  no,"  said  Mr.  Grainger,  shaking  his  head  in 
humble  protest,  "  that  isn't  fair.  You  dine  with  me  ?  It 
ain't  the  first  or  the  second  time  of  asking  either." 

"  But  look  here,"  said  Trelyon,  "  I've  got  lots  more  to  ask 
of  you.  I  want  you  to  lend  me  that  little  cutter  of  yours  for 
the  afternoon ;  will  you  ?  You  send  your  man  on  board  to 
see  she's  all  right,  and  I'll  pull  out  to  her  in  about  half  an 
hour's  time.     You'll  do  that,  won't  you,  like  a  good  fellow  ?  " 

Mr.  Grainger  was  not  only  willing  to  lend  the  yacht,  but 
also  his  own  services,  to  see  that  she  properly  received  so 
distinguished  a  guest;  whereupon  Trelyon  had  to  explain 
that  he  wanted  the  small  craft  merely  to  give  a  couple  of 
ladies  a  sail  for  an  hour  or  so.  Then  Mr.  Grainger  would 
have  his  man  instructed  to  let  the  ladies  have  some  tea  on 
board ;  and  he  would  give  Master  Harry  the  key  of  certain 
receptacles,  in  which  he  would  find  cans  of  preserved  meat, 
fancy  buscuits,  jam,  and  even  a  few  bottles  of  dry  Sillery ; 
finally,  he  would  immediately  hurry  off  to  see  about  fishing- 
rods.  Trelyon  had  to  acknowledge  to  himself  that  this 
worthy  person  deserved  the  best  dinner  that  the  hotel  could 
produce. 

In  the  afternoon  he  walked  along  to  fetch  Mrs.  Rosewarne 
and  her  daughter,  his  face  bright  with  expectation.  Mrs. 
Rosewarne  was  dressed  and  ready  when  he  went  in ;  but  she 
said — 

"  I  am  afraid  I  can't  go,  Mr.  Trelyon.  Wenna  says  she  is 
a  little  tired,  and  would  rather  stay  at  home." 

"  Wenna,  that  isn't  fair,"  he  said,  obviously  hurt.  "  You 
ought  to  make  some  little   effort  when  you  know  it  will  do 


A  PERILOUS  TRUCE. 


*5 


your  mother  good.     And  it  will  do  you  good  too,  if  only  you 
make  up  your  mind  to  go." 

She  hesitated  for  a  moment ;  she  saw  that  her  mother  was 
disappointed.  Then,  without  a  word,  she  went  and  put  on 
her  hat  and  shawl. 

"Well,"  he  said,  approvingly,  "you  are  very  reasonable, 
and  very  obedient.  But  we  can't  have  you  go  with  us  with 
such  a  face  as  that.  People  would  say  we  were  going  to  a 
funeral." 

A  shy  smile  came  over  the  gentle  features,  and  she  turned 
aside. 

"  And  we  can't  have  you  pretend  that  we  forced  you  to  go. 
If  we  go  at  all,  you  must  lead  the  way." 

"You  would  tease  the  life  out  of  a  saint  i  "  she  said,  with 
a  vexed  and  embarrassed  laugh,  and  then  she  marched  out 
before  them,  very  glad  to  be  able  to  conceal  her  heightened 
color. 

But  much  of  her  reserve  vanished  when  they  had  set  sail, 
and  when  the  small  cutter  was  beginning  to  make  way 
through  the  light  and  plashing  waves.  Wenna's  face  bright- 
ened. She  no  longer  let  her  two  companions  talk  exclusively 
to  each  other.  She  began  to  show  a  great  curiosity  about 
the  little  yacht ;  she  grew  anxious  to  have  the  lines  flung 
out ;  no  words  of  hers  could  express  her  admiration  for  the 
beauty  of  the  afternoon  and  of  the  scene  around  her. 

"  Now  are  you  glad  you  came  out  ? "  he  said  to  her. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  shyly. 

"  And  you'll  take  my  advice  another  time  ?  " 

"  Do  you  ever  take  any  one's  advice  ? "  she  said,  venturing 
to  look  up. 

"  Yes,  certainly,"  he  answered,  "  when  it  agrees  with  my 
own  inclination.     Who  ever  does  any  more  than  that  ?  " 

They  were  now  a  good  bit  away  from  land. 

"  Skipper,"  said  Trelyon  to  Mr.  Grainger's  man,  "  we'll 
put  her  about  now,  and  let  her  drift.  Here  is  a  cigar  for 
you  ;  you  can  take  it  up  to  the  bow  and  smoke  it,  and  keep 
a  good  lookout  for  the  sea-serpent." 

By  this  arrangement  they  obtained,  as  they  sat  and  idly 
talked,  an  excellent  view  of  all  the  land  around  the  bay,  and 
of  the  pale,  clear  sunset  shining  in  the  western  skies.  They 
lay  almost  motionless  in  the  lapping  water;  the  light  breeue 
scarcely  stirred  the  loose  canvas.  From  time  to  time  they 
could  hear  a  sound  of  calling  or  laughing  from  the  distant 
fishing-boats ;  and  that  only  seemed  to  increase  the  silence 
around  them. 


iS6  THREE  FEATHERS. 

It  was  an  evening  that  invited  to  repose  and  reverie  •, 
there  were  not  even  the  usual  fiery  colors  of  the  sunset  to 
arouse  and  fix  attention  by  their  rapidly  changing  and  glow- 
ing hues.  The  town  itself,  lying  darkly  all  around  the  sweep 
of  the  bay,  was  dusky  and  distant;  elsewhere  all  the  world 
seemed  to  be  flooded  with  the  silver  light  coming  over  from 
behind  the  western  hills.  The  sky  was  of  the  palest  blue  ; 
the  long  mackerel  clouds  that  stretched  across  were  of  the 
faintest  yellow  and  light  gray ;  and  into  that  shining  gray 
rose  the  black  stems  of  the  trees  that  were  just  over  the  out- 
line of  these  low  heights.  St.  Michael's  Mount  had  its 
summit  touched  by  the  pale  glow  ;  the  rest  of  the  giant  rock 
and  the  far  stretches  of  sea  around  it  were  gray  with  mist. 
But  close  by  the  boat  there  was  a  sharper  light  on  the  lap- 
ping waves  and  on  the  tall  spars ;  while  it  was  warm  enough 
to  heighten  the  color  on  Wenna's  face  as  she  sat  and  looked 
silently  at  the  great  and  open  world  around  her. 

They  were  drifting  in  more  ways  than  one.  Wenna  almost 
forgot  what  had  occurred  in  the  morning.  She  was  so 
pleased  to  see  her  mother  pleased  that  she  talked  quite 
unreservedly  to  the  young  man  who  had  wrought  the  change, 
and  was  ready  to  believe  all  that  Mrs.  Rosewarne  said  in 
private  about  his  being  so  delightful  and  cheerful  a  com- 
panion. As  for  him,  he  was  determined  to  profit  by  this  last 
opportunity.  If  the  strict  rules  of  honor  demanded  that  Mr. 
Roscorla  should  have  fair  play — or  if  Wenna  wished  him  to 
absent  himself,  which  was  of  more  consequence  than  Mr. 
Roscorla's  interests — he  would  make  his  visits  few  and 
formal;  but  in  the  meantime,  at  least,  they  would  have  this 
one  pleasant  afternoon  together.  Sometimes,  it  is  true,  he 
rebelled  against  the  uncertain  pledge  he  had  given  her.  Why 
should  he  not  seek  to  win  her  ?  What  had  the  strict  rules  of 
honor  to  do  with  the  prospect  of  a  young  girl  allowing  her- 
self to  be  sacrificed,  while  here  he  was  able  and  willing  to 
snatch  her  away  from  her  fate  ? 

"  How  fond  you  are  of  the  sea  and  of  boats !  "  he  said  to 
her.  "  Sometimes  I  think  I  shall  have  a  big  schooner  yacht 
built  for  myself,  and  take  her  to  the  Mediterranean,  going 
from  place  to  place  just  as  one  took  the  fancy.  But  it  would 
be  very  dull  by  yourself,  wouldn't  it,  even  if  you  had  a  dozen 
men  on  board  ?  What  you  want  is  to  have  a  small  party  all 
very  friendly  with  each  other,  and  at  night  you  would  sit  up 
on  deck  and  sing  songs.  And  I  think  you  would  like  those 
old-fashioned  songs  that  you  sing,  Miss  Wenna,  all  the  better 
for  hearing  them  so  far  away  from  home — at  least,  I  should  ; 


A  PERILOUS  TRUCE.  187 

but  then  I'm  an  outer  barbarian.  I  think  you,  now,  would 
be  delighted  with  the  grand  music  abroad — with  the  operas, 
you  know,  and  all  that.  I've  had  to  knock  about  these  places 
with  people ;  but  I  don't  care  about  it.  I  would  rather  hear 
1  Norah,  the  Pride  of  Kildare,'  or  '  The  Maid  of  Llangollen ' 
— because,  I  suppose,  these  young  women  are  more  in  my 
line.  You  see,  I  shouldn't  care  to  make  the  acquaintance  of 
a  gorgeous  creature  with  black  hair  and  a  train  of  yellow 
satin  half  a  mile  long,  who  tosses  up  a  gilt  goblet  when  she 
sings  a  drinking  song,  and  then  gets  into  a  frightful  passion 
about  what  you  don't  understand.  Wouldn't  you  rather  meet 
the  '  Maid  of  Llangollen  '  coming  along  a  country  road — 
coming  in  by  Marazion  over  there,  for  example — with  a  bright 
print  dress  all  smelling  of  lavender,  and  a  basket  of  fresh 
eggs  over  her  arm  ?  Well — what  was  I  saying  ?  Oh  yes ! 
don't  you  think  if  you  were  away  in  the  Adriatic,  and  sitting 
up  on  deck  at  night,  you  would  make  the  people  have  a 
quiet  cry  when  you  sang  '  Home,  sweet  home  ? '  The  words 
are  rather  silly,  aren't  they  ?  But  they  make  you  think  of 
such  a  lot  if  you  hear  them  abroad." 

"  And  when  are  you  going  away  this  year,  Mr.  Trelyon  ?  " 
Wenna  said,  looking  down. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  he  said,  cheerfully ;  he  would  have 
no  question  of  his  going  away  interfere  with  the  happiness  of 
the  present  moment. 

At  length,  however,  they  had  to  bethink  themselves  of  get- 
ting back,  for  the  western  skies  were  deepening  in  color,  and 
the  evening  air  was  growing  chill.  They  ran  the  small  cutter 
back  to  her  moorings  ;  then  they  put  off  in  the  small  boat 
for  the  shore.  It  was  a  beautiful,  quiet  evening.  Wenna, 
who  had  taken  off  her  glove  and  was  allowing  her  bare  hand 
to  drag  through  the  rippling  water,  seemed  to  be  lost  in 
distant  and  idle  fancies  not  altogether  of  a  melancholy 
nature. 

"  Wenna,"  her  mother  said,  "you  will  get  your  hand  per- 
fectly chilled." 

The  girl  drew  back  her  hand,  and  shook  the  water  off  her 
dripping  fingers.     Then  she  uttered  a  slight  cry. 

"  My  ring  !  "  she  said,  looking  with  absolute  flight  at  her 
hand  and  then  at  the  sea. 

Of  course,  they  stopped  the  boat  instantly ;  but  all  they 
could  do  was  to  stare  at  the  clear,  dark  water.  The  distress 
of  the  girl  was  beyond  expression.  This  was  no  ordinary 
trinket  that  had  been  lost ;  it  was  a  gage  of  plighted  affection 
given  her  by  one  now  far  away,  and  in  his  absence  she  had 


1 88  THREE  FEATHERS. 

carelessly  flung  it  into  the  sea.  She  had  no  fear  of  omens, 
as  her  sister  had ;  but  surely,  of  all  things  in  the  world,  she 
ought  to  have  treasured  up  this  ring.  In  spite  of  herself, 
tears  sprang  to  her  eyes.  Her  mother  in  vain  attempted  to 
make  light  of  the  loss.  And  then  at  last  Harry  Trelyon, 
driven  almost  beside  himself  by  seeing  the  girl  so  plunged 
in  grief,  hit  upon  a  wild  fashion  of  consoling  her. 

"  Wenna,"  he  said,  "  don't  disturb  yourself !  Why,  we 
can  easily  get  you  the  ring.  Look  at  the  rocks  there — a  long 
bank  of  smooth  sand  slopes  out  from  them,  and  your  ring  is 
quietly  lying  upon  the  sand.  There  is  nothing  easier  than  to 
get  it  up  with  a  dredging-machine — I  will  undertake  to  let 
you  have  it  by  to-morrow  afternoon." 

Mrs.  Rosewarne  thought  he  was  joking  ;  but  he  effectually 
persuaded  Wenna,  at  all  events,  that  she  should  have  her 
ring  next  day.  Then  he  discovered  that  he  would  be  just  in 
time  to  catch  the  half-past  six  train  to  Plymouth,  where  he 
would  get  the  proper  apparatus,  and  return  in  the  morning. 

"  It  was  a  pretty  ring,"  said  he.  "There  were  six  stones 
in  it,  weren't  there  ?  " 

"  Five,"  she  said  :  so  much  she  knew,  though  it  must  be 
confessed  she  had  not  studied  that  token  of  Mr.  Roscorla's 
affection  with  the  earnest  solicitude  which  most  young  ladies 
bestow  on  the  first  gift  of  their  lover. 

Trelyon  jumped  into  a  fly  and  drove  off  to  the  station,  where 
he  sent  back  an  apology  to  Mr.  Grainger.  Wenna  went  home 
more  perturbed  than  she  had  been  for  many  a  day,  and  that 
not  solely  on  account  of  the  lost  ring. 

Everything  seemed  to  conspire  against  her,  and  keep  her 
from  carrying  out  her  honorable  resolutions.  That  sail  in 
the  afternoon  she  could  not  well  have  avoided  ;  but  she  had 
determined  to  take  some  opportunity  of  begging  Mr.  Trelyon 
not  to  visit  them  again  while  they  remained  in  Penzance. 
Now,  however,  he  was  coming  next  clay  ;  and,  whether  or  not 
he  was  successful  in  his  quest  after  the  missing  ring,  would 
she  not  have  to  show  herself  abundantly  grateful  for  all  his 
kindness? 

In  putting  away  her  gloves  she  came  upon  the  letter  of 
Mr.  Roscorla,  which  she  had  not  yet  answered.  She  shivered 
slightly  :  the  handwriting  on  the  envelope  seemed  to  reproach 
her.  And  yet  something  of  a  rebellious  spirit  rose  in  her 
against  this  imaginary  accusation  ;  and  she  grew  angry  that 
she  was  called  upon  to  serve  this  harsh  and  inconsiderate 
taskmaster,  and  give  him  explanations  which  humiliated  her. 
He  had  no  right  to  ask  questions  about  Mr.  Trelyon.     He 


FURTHER  ENTANGLEMENTS.  189 

ought  not  to  have  listened  to  idle  gossip.  He  should  have 
had  sufficient  faith  in  her  promised  word ;  and  if  he  only  knew 
the  torture  of  doubt  and  anxiety  she  was  suffering  on  his  be- 
half- 
She  did  not  pursue  these  speculations  further ;  but  it  was 
well  with  Mr.  Roscorla  that  she  did  not  at  that  moment  sit 
down  and  answer  his  letter. 


CHAPTER  XXVIL 

FURTHER   ENTANGLEMENTS. 

"  Mother,"  said  Wenna,  that  night,  "  what  vexed  you  so  this 
morning  ?     Who  was  the  woman  who  went  by  ?  " 

"  Don't  ask  me,  Wenna,"  the  mother  said,  rather  uneasily. 
"  It  would  do  you  no  good  to  know.  And  you  must  not  speak 
of  that  woman — she  is  too  horrid  a  creature  to  be  mentioned 
by  a  young  girl  ever." 

Wenna  looked  surprised ;  and  then  she  said,  warmly — 

"  And  if  she  is  so,  mother,  how  could  you  ask  Mr.  Trelyon 
to  have  anything  to  do  with  her  ?  Why  should  you  send  for 
him  ?     Why  should  he  be  spoken  to  about  her  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Trelyon  !  "  her  mother  said,  impatiently.  "  You  seem 
to  have  no  thought  now  for  anybody  but  Mr.  Trelyon.  Surely 
the  young  man  can  take  care  of  himself." 

The  reproof  was  just ;  the  justice  of  it  was  its  sting.  She 
was  indeed  thinking  too  much  about  the  young  man,  and  her 
mother  was  right  in  saying  so ;  but  who  was  to  understand 
the  extreme  anxiety  that  possessed  her  to  bring  these  danger- 
ous relations  to  an  end? 

On  the  following  afternoon  Wenna,  sitting  alone  at  the 
window,  heard  Trelyon  enter  below.  The  young  person  who 
had  charge  of  such  matters  allowed  him  to  go  up  the  stairs  and 
announce  himself  as  a  matter  of  course.  He  tapped  at  the 
door,  and  came  into  the  room. 

"Where's  your  mother,  Wenna?  The  girl  said  she  was 
here.  However,  never  mind — I've  brought  you  something 
that  will  astonish  you.     What  do  you  think  of  that  ?  " 

She  scarcely  looked  at  the  ring,  so  great  was  her  em- 
barrassment. That  the  present  of  one  lover  should  be 
brought  back  to  her  by  another  was  an  awkward,  almost  a 
humiliating,  circumstance.  Yet  she  was  glad  as  well  as 
ashamed. 


190  THREE  FEATHERS. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Trelyon,  how  can  I  thank  you  ? "  she  said,  in 
her  low,  earnest  voice.  "  All  you  seem  to  care  for  is  to 
make  other  people  happy — and  the  trouble  you  have  taken 
too ! " 

She  forgot  to  look  at  the  ring — even  when  he  pointed  out 
how  the  washing  in  the  sea  had  made  it  bright.  She  never 
asked  about  the  dredging.  Indeed,  she  was  evidently  disin- 
clined to  speak  of  this  matter  in  any  way,  and  kept  the  finger 
with  the  ring  on  it  out  of  sight. 

"  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said  then,  with  equal  steadiness  of 
voice,  "  I  am  going  to  ask  something  more  from  you ;  and  I 
am  sure  you  will  not  refuse  it — " 

"  I  know,"  said  he,  hastily,  "  and  let  me  have  the  first 
word.  I  have  been  thinking  over  our  position  during  this 
trip  to  Plymouth  and  back.  Well,  I  think  I  have  become  a 
nuisance  to  you — wait  a  bit,  let  me  say  my  say  in  my  own 
way ;  I  can  see  that  I  only  embarrass  you  when  I  call  on 
you,  and  that  the  permission  you  give  me  is  only  leading  to 
awkwardness  and  discomfort.  Mind,  I  don't  think  you  are 
acting  fairly  to  yourself  or  to  me  in  forbidding  me  to  mention 
again  what  I  told  you.  I  know  you're  wrong.  You  should 
let  me  show  you  what  sort  of  a  life  lies  before  you — but  there, 
I  promised  to  keep  clear  of  that.  Well,  I  will  do  what  you 
like  ;  and  if  you'd  rather  have  me  stay  away  altogether,  I  will 
do  that.  I  don't  want  to  be  a  nuisance  to  you.  But  mind 
this,  Wenna,  I  do  it  because  you  wish  it — I  don't  do  it 
because  I  think  any  man  is  bound  to  respect  an  engagement 
which — which — which,  in  fact,  he  doesn't  respect — " 

His  eloquence  broke  down  ;  but  his  meaning  was  clear. 
He  stood  there  before  her,  ready  to  accept  her  decision  with 
all  meekness  and  obedience ;  but  giving  her  frankly  to 
understand  that  he  did  not  any  the  more  countenance  or 
consider  as  a  binding  thing  her  engagement  to  Mr.  Roscorla. 

"  Mind  you,"  he  said,  "  I  am  not  quite  as  indifferent  about 
all  this  as  I  look.  It  isn't  the  way  of  our  family  to  put  their 
hands  in  their  pockets  and  wait  for  orders.  But  I  can't  fight 
with  you.  Many  a  time  I  wish  there  was  a  man  in  the  case 
— then  he  and  I  might  have  it  out ;  but  as  it  is,  I  suppose  I 
have  got  to  do  what  you  say,  Wenna,  and  that's  the  long  and 
the  short  of  it." 

She  did  not  hesitate.  She  went  forward  and  offered  him 
her  hand ;  and  with  her  frank  eyes  looking  him  in  the  face, 
she  said — 

"  You  have  said  what  I  wished  to  say,  and  I  feared  I  had 
not  the  courage    to  say  it.     Now   you    are    acting  bravely. 


FURTHER  ENTANGLEMENTS.  191 

Perhaps  at  some  future  time  we  may  become  friends  again — 
oh  yes,  and  I  do  hope  that ! — but  in  the  mean  time  you  will 
treat  me  as  if  I  were  a  stranger  to  you !  " 

"  That  is  quite  impossible,"  said  he,  decisively.  "  You  ask 
too  much,  Wenna." 

"  Would  not  that  be  the  simpler  way  ? "  she  said,  looking 
at  him  again  with  the  frank  and  earnest  eyes ;  and  he  knew 
she  was  right. 

"  And  the  length  of  time  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Until  Mr.  Roscorla  comes  home  again,  at  all  events," 
she  said. 

She  had  touched  an  angry  chord. 

"  What  has  he  to  do  with  us  ?  "  the  young  man  said,  almost 
fiercely.  "  I  refuse  to  have  him  come  in  as  arbiter  or  in  any 
way  whatever.  Let  him  mind  his  own  business  ;  and  I  can 
tell  you  when  he  and  I  come  to  talk  over  this  engagement  of 
yours — " 

"  You  promised  not  to  speak  of  that,"  she  said  quietly,  and 
he  instantly  ceased. 

"  Well,  Wenna,"  he  said,  after  a  minute  or  two,  "  I  think 
you  ask  too  much ;  but  you  must  have  it  your  own  way.  I 
won't  annoy  you  and  drive  you  into  a  corner — you  may 
depend  on  that.  But  to  be  perfect  strangers  for  an  indefinite 
time  ! — then  you  won't  speak  to  me  when  I  see  you  passing 
to  church  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes,"  she  said,  looking  down  ;  "  I  did  not  mean 
strangers  like  that." 

"  And  I  thought,"  said  he,  with  something  more  than  disap- 
pointment in  his  face,  "  that  when  I  proposed  to — to  relieve 
you  from  my  visits,  you  would  at  least  let  us  have  one  more 
afternoon  together — only  one — for  a  drive,  you  know.  It 
would  be  nothing  to  you — it  would  be  something  for  me  to 
remember — " 

She  would  not  recognize  the  fact,  but  for  a  brief  moment 
his  under  lip  quivered ;  and  somehow  she  seemed  to  know  it, 
though  she  dared  not  look  up  to  his  face. 

"  One  afternoon — only  one,  to-morrow — next  day,  Wenna  ? 
Surely  you  cannot  refuse  me  that  ?  " 

Then,  looking  at  her  with  a  great  compassion  in  his  eyes, 
he  suddenly  altered  his  tone. 

"  I  think  I  ought  to  be  hanged,"  he  said,  in  a  vexed  way. 
"  You  are  the  only  person  in  the  world  I  care  for,  and  every 
time  I  see  you  I  plunge  you  into  trouble.  #  Well,  this  is  the 
last  time.     Good-bye,  Wenna  ! " 

Almost  involuntarily  she  put  out  her  hand ;  but  it  was 


192  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

with  the  least  perceptible  gesture  to  bid  him  remain.  Then 
she  went  past  him ;  and  there  were  tears  running  down  her 
face. 

"  If — if  you  will  wait  a  moment,"  she  said,  "  I  will  see  if 
mamma  and  I  can  go  with  you  to-morrow  afternoon." 

She  went  out  and  he  was  left  alone.  Each  word  that  she 
had  uttered  had  pierced  his  heart ;  but  which  did  he  feel  the 
more  deeply — remorse  that  he  should  have  insisted  on  this 
slight  and  useless  concession,  or  bitter  rage  against  the  cir- 
cumstances that  environed  them,  and  the  man  who  was  al- 
together responsible  for  these  ?  There  was  now  at  least  one 
person  in  the  world  who  greatly  longed  for  the  return  of  Mr. 
Roscorla. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

FAREWELL  ! 

"Yes,  it  is  true,",  the  young  man  said,  next  morning,  to 
his  cousin,  "  this  is  the  last  time  I  shall  see  her  for  many  a 
day." 

He  was  standing  with  his  back  to  her,  moodily  staring  out 
of  the  window. 

"  Well,  Harry,"  his  cousin  said,  gently  enough,  "  you  won't 
be  hurt  if  I  say  it  is  a  very  good  thing  ?  I  am  glad  to  see 
you  have  so  much  patience  and  reasonableness.  Indeed,  I 
think  Miss  Rosewarne  has  very  much  improved  you  in  that 
respect ;  and  it  is  very  good  advice  she  has  given  you  now.;> 

"  Oh  yes,  it  is  all  .very  well  to  talk  ! "  he  said,  impatiently. 
"  Common-sense  is  precious  easy  when  you  are  quite  indiffer- 
ent. Of  course,  she  is  quite  indifferent,  and  she  says,  '  Don't 
trouble  me!'  What  can  one  do -but  go?  But  if  she  was 
not  so  indifferent — " 

He  turned  suddenly. 

"  Jue>  you  can't  tell  what  trouble  I  am  in  !  Do  you  know 
that  sometimes  I  have  fancied  she  was  not  quite  so  indiffer- 
ent— I  have  had  the  cheek  to  think  so  from  one  or  two  things 
she  said — and  then,  if  that  were  so,  it  is  enough  to  drive  one 
mad  to  think  of  leaving  her.  How  could  I  leave  her,  Jue  ? 
If  any  one  cared  for  you,  would  you  quietly  sneak  off  in  order 
to  consult  your  own  comfort  and  convenience  ?  Would  you 
be  patient  and  reasonable  then  ? " 

"  Harry,  don't  talk  in  that  excited  way.  Listen.  She 
does  not  ask  you  to  go  away  for  your  sake,  but  for  hers." 


FAREWELL!  193 

"  For  her  sake  ? "  he  repeated,  staring.  "  If  she  is  indif- 
ferent, how  can  that  matter  to  her  ?  Well,  I  suppose  I  am_  a 
nuisance  to  her — as  much  as  I  am  to  myself.  There  it  is. 
I  am  an  interloper." 

"  My  poor  boy,"  his  cousin  said,  with  a  kindiy  smile,  "  you 
don't  know  your  own  mind  two  minutes  running.  During  this 
past  week  you  have  been  blown  about  by  all  sorts  of  con- 
trary winds  of  opinion  and  fancy.  Sometimes  you  thought 
she  cared  for  you — sometimes  no.  Sometimes  you  thought 
it  a  shame  to  interfere  with  Mr.  Roscorla ;  then  again  you 
grew  indignant  and  would  have  slaughtered  him.  Now  you 
don't  know  whether  you  ought  to  go  away  or  stop  to  perse- 
cute her.     Don't  you  think  she  is  the  best  judge  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't,"  he  said.  "  I  think  she  is  no  judge  of  what 
is  best  for  her,  because  she  never  thinks  of  that.  She  wants 
somebody  by  her  to  insist  on  her  being  properly  selfish." 

"That  would  be  a  pretty  lesson." 

"  A  necessary  one,  anyhow,  with  some  women,  I  can  tell 
you.  But  I  suppose  I  must  go,  as  she  says.  I  couldn't 
bear  meeting  her  about  Eglosilyan,  and  be  scarcely  allowed 
to  speak  to  her.  Then  when  that  hideous  little  beast  comes 
back  from  Jamaica,  fancy  seeing  them  walk  about  together  ! 
I  must  cut  the  whole  place.  I  shall  go  into  the  army — it's 
the  only  profession  open  to  a  fool  like  me,  and  they  say  it 
won't  be  long  open  either.  When  I  come  back,  Jue,  I  sup- 
pose you'll  be  Mrs.  Tressider." 

"I  am  very  sorry,"  his  cousin  said,  not  heeding  the  refer- 
ence to  herself ;  "  I  never  expected  to  see  you  so  deep  in 
trouble,  Harry.  But  you  have  youth  and  good  spirits  on 
your  side :  you  will  get  over  it." 

"  I  suppose  so,"  he  said,  not  very  cheerfully  ;  and  then  he 
went  off  to  see  about  the  carriage  which  was  to  take  Wenna 
and  himself  for  their  last  drive  together. 

At  the  same  time  that  he  was  talking  to  his  cousin,  Wenna 
was  seated  at  her  writing-desk  answering  Mr.  Roscorla's  let- 
ter. Her  brows  were  knit  together;  she  was  evidently 
laboring  at  some  difficult  and  disagreeable  task.  Her 
mother,  lying  on  the  sofa,,  was  regarding  her  with  an  amused 
look. 

V  What  is  the  matter,  Wenna  ?  That  letter  seems  to  give 
you  a  deal  of  trouble." 

The  girl  put  down  her  pen  with  some  trace  of  vexation  in 
her  face. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  mother.     How  is  one  to  explain  delicate 


i94  THREE  FEATHERS- 

matters  in  a  letter  ?  Every  phrase  seems  capable  of  mis- 
construction.    And  then  the  mischief  it  may  cause  ! " 

"  But  surely  you  don't  need  to  write  with  such  care  to  Mr. 
Roscorla ! " 

Wenna  colored  slightly,  and  hesitated,  as  she  answered — 

"Well,  mother,  it  is  something  peculiar.  I  did  not  wish 
to  trouble  you  ;  but  after  all  I  don't  think  you  will  vex  your- 
self about  so  small  a  thing.  Mr.  Roscorla  has  been  told 
stories  about  me.  He  is  angry  that  Mr.  Trelyon  should  visit 
us  so  often.  And — and — I  am  trying  to  explain.  That,  is 
all,  mother." 

"  It  is  quite  enough,  Wenna  ;  but  I  am  not  surprised.  Of 
course,  if  foolish  persons  liked  to  misconstrue  Mr.  Trelyon's 
visits,  they  might  make  mischief.  I  see  no  harm  in  them 
myself.  I  suppose  the  young  man  found  an  evening  at  the 
inn  amusing;  and  I  can  see  that  he  likes  you  very  well, 
as  many  other  people  do.  But  you  know  how  you  are  sit- 
uated, Wenna.  If  Mr.  Roscorla  objects  to  your  continuing 
an  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Trelyon,  your  duty  is  clear." 

"  I  do  not  think  it  is,  mother,"  Wenna  said,  an  indignant 
flush  of  color  appearing  in  her  face.  "  I  should  not  be  justi- 
fied in  throwing  over  any  friend  or  acquaintance  merely  be- 
cause Mr.  Roscorla  had  heard  rumors.  I  would  not  do  it. 
He  ought  not  to  listen  to  such  things — he  ought  to  have 
greater  faith  in  me.  But  at  the  same  time  I  have  asked  Mr. 
Trelyon  not  to  come  here  so  often — I  have  done  so  already 
— and  after  to-day,  mother,  the  gossips  will  have  nothing  to 
report." 

"  That  is  better,  Wenna,"  the  mother  said ;  "  I  shall  be 
sorry  myself  to  miss  the  young  man,  for  I  like  him  ;  but  it 
is  better  you  should  attend  to  Mr.  Roscorla's  wishes.  And 
don't  answer  his  letter  in  a  vexed  or  angry  way,  Wenna." 

She  was  certainly  not  doing  so.  Whatever  she  might  be 
thinking,  a  deliberate  and  even  anxious  courtesy  was  visible 
in  the  answer  she  was  sending  him.  Her  pride  would  not 
allow  her  to  apologize  for  what  had  been  done,  in  which  she 
had  seen  no  wrong;  but  as  to  the  future  she  was  earnest  in 
her  promises.  And  yet  she  could  not  help  saying  a  good 
word  for  Trelyon. 

"  You  have  known  him  longer  than  I  have,"  she  wrote, 
"  and  you  know  what  his  character  is.  I  could  see  nothing 
wrong  in  his  coming  to  see  my  family  and  myself  ;  nor  did 
you  say  anything  against  him  while  you  saw  him  with  us.  I 
am  sure  you  believe  he  is  straightforward,  honest,  and  frank ; 
and  if  his  frankness  sometimes  verges  upon   rudeness,  he  is 


FAREWELL!  195 

of  late  greatly  improved  in  that  respect — as  in  many  others 
— and  he  is  most  respectful  and  gentle  in  his  manners.  As 
for  his  kindness  to  my  mother  and  myself,  we  could  not  shut 
our  eyes  to  it  Here  is  the  latest  instance  of  it ;  although  I 
feel  deeply  ashamed  to  tell  you  the  story.  We  were  return- 
ing in  a  small  boat,  and  I  was  carelessly  letting  my  hand 
drag  through  the  water,  when  somehow  the  ring  you  gave  me 
dropped  off.  Of  course,  we  all  considered  it  lost — all  except 
Mr.  Trelyon,  who  took  the  trouble  to  go  at  once  all  the  way 
to  Plymouth  for  a  dredging-machine,  and  the  following  after- 
noon I  was  overjoyed  to  find  him  return  with  the  lost  ring, 
which  I  had  scarcely  dared  hope  to  see  again.  How  many 
gentleman  would  have  done  so  much  for  a  mere  acquaintance  ? 
I  am  sure  if  you  had  been  here  you  would  have  been  ashamed 
of  me  if  I  had  not  been  grateful  to  him.  Now,  however, 
since  you  appear  to  attach  importance  to  these  idle  rumors, 
I  have  asked  Mr.  Trelyon — " 

So  the  letter  went  on.  She  would  not  have  written  so 
calmly  if  she  had  foreseen  the  passion  which  her  ingenuous 
story  about  the  dredging-machine  was  destined  to  arouse. 
Whe'n  Mr.  Roscorla  read  that  simple  narrative,  he  first  stared 
with  astonishment  as  though  she  were  making  some  foolish 
joke.  Directly  he  saw  she  was  serious,  however,  his  rage 
and  mortification  were  indescribable.  Here  was  this  young 
man,  not  content  with  hanging  about  the  girl  so  that  neigh- 
bors talked,  but  actually  imposing  on  her  credulity,  and  mak- 
ing a  jest  of  that  engaged  ring  which  ought  to  have  been  sa- 
cred to  her.  Mr.  Roscorla  at  once  saw  through  the  whole 
affair— the  trip  to  Plymouth,  the  purchasing  of  a  gypsy  ring 
that  could  have  been  matched  a  dozen  times  over  anywhere 
— the  return  to  Penzance  with  a  cock-and-bull  story  about  a 
dredging-machine.  So  hot  was  his  anger  that  it  overcame 
his  prudence.  He  would  start  for  England  at  once.  He 
had  taken  no  such  resolution  when  he  heard  from  the  friendly 
and  communicative  Mr.  Barnes  that  Mr.  Trelyon's  conduct 
with  regard  to  Wenna  was  causing  scandal ;  but  this  making  a 
fool  of  him  in  his  absence  he  could  not  bear.  At  any  cost 
he  would  set  out  for  England  ;  arrange  matters  more  to  his 
satisfaction  by  recalling  Wenna  to  a  sense:  of  her  position  ; 
then  he  would  return  to  Jamaica.  His  affairs  there  were  al- 
ready promising  so  well  that  he  could  afford  the-  trip. 

Meanwhile  Wenna  had  just  finished  her  letter  when  Mr. 
Trelyon  drove  up  with  the  carriage,  and  shortly  afterwards 
came  into  the  room.  He  seemed  rather  grave,  and  yet  not 
at  all  sentimentally  sad.     He   addressed  himself  mostly   to 


196  THREE  FEATHERS. 

Mrs.  Rosewarne,  and  talked  to  her  about  the  Port  Isaac 
fishing,  the  emigration  of  the  miners,  and  other  matters. 
Then  Wenna  slipped  away  to  get  ready. 

"  Mrs.  Rosewarne,"  he  said, "  you  asked  me  to  find  out 
what  I  could  about  that  red-faced  person,  you  know.  Well, 
here  is  an  advertisement  which  may  interest  you.  I  came 
on  it  quite  accidentally  last  night  in  the  smoking-room  of  the 
hotel." 

It  was  a  marriage  advertisment,  cut  from  a  paper  about 
a  week  old.  The  name  of  the  lady  was  "  Katherine  Ann, 
widow  of  the  late  J.  T.  Shirley,  Esq.,  of  Barrackpore." 

"  Yes  !  I  was  sure  it  was  that  woman  ! "  Mrs.  Rosewarne 
said  eagerly.     "  And  so  she  is  married  again  ?  " 

"  I  fancied  the  gay  young  things  were  here  on  their 
wedding-trip,"  Trelyon  said  carelessly.  "  They  amused  me. 
I  like  to  see  turtle-doves  of  fifty  billing  and  cooing  on  the 
promenade,  especially  when  one  of  them  wears  a  brown  wig, 
has  an  Irish  accent,  and  drinks  brandy-and-water  at  breakfast. 
But  he  is  a  good  billiard-player ;  yes,  he  is  an  uncommonly 
good  billiard-player.  He  told  me  last  night  he  had  beaten 
the  Irish  Secretary  the  other  day  in  the  billiard  room  of  the 
House  of  Commons.  I  humbly  suspect  that  was  a  lie.  At 
least,  I  can't  remember  anything  about  a  billiard-table  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  and  I  was  two  or  three  times  through 
every  bit  of  it  when  I  was  a  little  chap,  with  an  uncle  of 
mine,  who  was  a  member  then  ;  but  perhaps  they've  got  a 
billiard-table  now — who  knows  ?  He  told  me  he  had  stood 
for  an  Irish  borough — spent  ^3000  on  a  population  of  284 — 
and  all  he  got  was  a  black  eye  and  a  broken  head.  I  should 
say  all  that  was  a  fabrication,  too  ;  indeed,  I  think  he  rather 
amuses  himself  with  lies — and  brandy-and-water.  But  you 
don't  want  to  know  anything  more  about  him,  Mrs.  Rose- 
warne ?  " 

She  did  not.  All  that  she  cared  to  know  was  in  that  little 
strip  of  printed  paper ;  and  as  she  left  the  room  to  get  ready 
for  the  drive  she  expressed  herself  grateful  to  him  in  such 
warm  tones  that  he  was  rather  astonished.  After  all,  as  he 
said  to  himself,  he  had  had  nothing  to  do  in  bringing  about 
the  marriage  of  that  somewhat  gorgeous  person  in  whom 
Mrs.  Rosewarne  was  so  strangely  interested. 

They  were  silent  as  they  drove  away.  There  was  one 
happy  face  among  them,  that  of  Mrs.  Rosewarne  ;  but  she 
was  thinking  of  her  own  affairs,  in  a  sort  of  pleased  reverie. 
Wenna  was  timid  and  a  trifle  sad  ;  she  said  little  beyond 
"  Yes,  Air.  Trelyon,"  and  "  No,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  and  even  that 


FAREWELL!  197 

was  said  fh  a  low  voice.  As  for  him,  he  spoke  "o  her  grave- 
ly and  respectfully:  it  was  already  as  if  she  were  a  mere 
stranger. 

Had  some  of  his  old  friends  and  acquaintances  seer*  him 
now,  they  would  have  been  something  more  than  astonished. 
Was  this  young  man,  talking  in  a  gentle  and  courteous  fashion 
to  his  companion,  and  endeavoring  to  interest  her  in  the 
various  things  around  her,  the  same  dare-devil  lad  who  used 
to  clatter  down  the  main  street  of  Eglosilyan,  who  knew  no 
control  other  than  his  own  unruly  wishes,  and  who  had  no 
answer  but  a  mocking  jest  for  any  remonstrance  ? 

"  And  how  long  do  you  remain  in  Penzance,  Mr.  Trel- 
yon  ? "  Mrs.  Rosewarne  said  at  length. 

"  Until  to-morrow,  I  expect,"  he  answered. 

"  To-morrow  ?  " 

"Yes;  I  am  going  back  to  Eglosilyan.  You  know  my 
mother  means  to  give  some  party  or  other  on  my  coming  of 
age,  and  there  is  so  little  of  that  amusement  going  on  at  our 
house  that  it  needs  all  possible  encouragement.  After  that 
I  mean  to  leave  Eglosilyan  for  a  time." 

Wenna  said  nothing  ;  but  her  downcast  face  grew  a  little 
paler :  it  was  she  who  was  banishing  him. 

"By  the  way,"  he  continued,  with  a  smile,  "my  mother  is 
very  anxious  about  Miss  Wenna's  return.  I  fancy  she  has 
been  trying  to  go  into  that  business  of  the  Sewing  Club  on 
her  own  account ;  and  in  that  case  she  would  be  sure  to  get 
into  a  mess.  I  know  her  first  impulse  would  be  to  pay  any 
money  to  smooth  matters  over ;  but  that  would  be  a  bad  be- 
ginning, wouldn't  it  ? " 

"  Yes,  it  would,"  Wenna  said ;  but  somehow,  at  this  mo- 
ment, she  was  less  inclined  to  be  hopeful  about  the  future. 

"  And  as  for  you,  Mrs.  Rosewarne,"  he  said,  "  I  suppose 
you  will  be  going  home  soon,  now  that  the  change  seems  to 
have  done  you  so  much  good  ? " 

"Yes,  I  hope  so,"  she  said;  "but  Wenna  must  go  first. 
My  husband  writes  to  me  that  he  cannot  do  without  her,  and 
offers  to  send  Mabyn  instead.  Nobody  seems  to  be  able  to 
get  on  without  our  Wenna." 

"And  yet  she  has  the  most  curious  fancy  that  she  is  of  no 
account  to  anybody.  Why,  some  day  I  expect  to  hear  of  the 
people  in  Eglosilyan  holding  a  public  meeting  to  present  her 
with  a  service  of  plate,  and  an  address  written  on  parchment, 
with  blue  and  gold  letters." 

"  Perhaps  they  will  do  that  when  she  gets  married,"  the 
mother  said,  ignorant  of  the  stab  she  was  dealing. 


198  THREE  FEATHERS. 

It  was  a  picturesque  and  pleasant  bit  of  country  through 
which  they  were  driving  ;  yet  to  two  of  them  at  least  the  af- 
ternoon sun  seemed  to  shine  over  it  with  a  certain  sadness. 
It  was  as  if  they  were  bidding  good-bye  to  some  beautiful  scene 
they  could  scarcely  expect  to  revisit.  For  many  a  day  there- 
after, indeed,  Wenna  seemed  to  recollect  that  drive  as  though 
it  had  happened  in  a  dream.  She  remembered  the  rough  and 
lonely  road  leading  up  sharp  hills  and  getting  down  into  val- 
leys again ;  the  masses  of  ferns  and  wild  flowers  by  the  stone 
walls ,  the  wild  and  undulating  country,  with  its  stretches  of 
yellow  furze,  its  clumps  of  trees,  and  its  huge  blocks  of  gray 
granite.  She  remembered  their  passing  into  a  curious  little 
valley,  densely  wooded,  the  winding  path  of  which  was  not 
well  fitted  for  a  broad  carriage  and  a  pair  of  horses.  They 
had  to  watch  the  boughs  and  branches  as  they  jolted  by. 
The  sun  was  warm  among  the  foliage ;  there  was  a  resinous 
scent  of  ferns  about.  By  and  by  the  valley  abruptly  opened 
on  a  wide  and  beautiful  picture.  Lamorna  Cove  lay  before 
them,  and  a  cold  fresh  breeze  came  in  from  the  sea.  Here 
the  world  seemed  to  cease  suddenly.  All  around  them  were 
huge  rocks  and  wild  flowers  and  trees ;  and  far  up  there  on 
their  left  rose  a  hill  of  granite,  burning  red  with  the  sunset ; 
but  down  below  them  the  strange  little  harbor  was  in  shadow, 
and  the  sea  beyond,  catching  nothing  of  the  glow  in  the  west, 
was  gray  and  mystic  and  silent.  Not  a  ship  was  visible  on 
that  pale  plain ;  no  human  being  could  be  seen  about  the 
stone  quays  and  the  cottages ;  it  seemed  as  if  they  had  come 
to  the  end  of  the  world,  and  were  its  last  inhabitants.  All 
these  things  Wenna  thought  of  in  after-days,  until  the  odd  and 
plain  little  harbor  of  Lamorna  and  its  rocks  and  bushes  and 
slopes  of  granite  seemed  to  be  some  bit  of  fairyland,  steeped 
in  the  rich  hues  of  the  sunset,  and  yet  ethereal,  distant,  and 
unrecoverable. 

Mrs.  Rosewarne  did  not  at  all  understand  the  silence  of 
these  young  people,  and  made  many  attempts  to  break  it  up. 
Was  the  mere  fact  of  Mr.  Trelyon  returning  to  Eglosilyan 
next  day  anything  to  be  sad  about  ?  He  was  not  a  school-boy 
going  back  to  school.  As  for  Wenna,  she  had  got  back  her 
engaged  ring,  and  ought  to  have  been  grateful  and  happy. 

"  Come  now,"  she  said,  "  if  you  purpose  to  dnve  back  by 
the  Mouse  Hole,  we  must  waste  no  more  time  here.  Wenna, 
have  you  gone  to  sleep  ? " 

The  girl  started  as  if  she  had  really  been  asleep  \  then  she 
walked  back  to  the  carriage  and  got  in.  They  drove  away 
again  without  saying  a  word. 


FAREWELL!  199 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Wenna  ?  Why  are  you  so 
downcast  ?  "  her  mother  asked. 

"  Oh,  nothing !  "  the  girl  said  hastily.  "  But — but  one  does 
not  care  to  talk  much  on  so  beautiful  an  evening." 

"  Yes,  that  is  quite  true/'  said  Mr.  Trelyon,  quite  as  eager- 
ly, and  with  something  of  a  blush  ;  "  one  only  cares  to  sit  and 
look  at  things.'* 

"Oh,  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Rosewarne,  with  a  smile;  she 
had  never  before  heard  Mr.  Trelyon  express  his  views  upon 
scenery. 

They  drove  around  by  the  Mouse  Hole,  and  when  they 
came  in  sight  of  Penzance  again,  the  bay  and  the  semicircle 
of  houses  and  St.  Michael's  Mount  were  all  of  a  pale  gray  in 
the  twilight.  As  they  drove  quietly  along,  they  heard  the 
voices  of  people  from  time  to  time  ;  the  occupants  of  the  cot- 
tages had  come  out  for  their  evening  stroll  and  chat.  Sud- 
denly, as  they  were  passing  certain  hugh  masses  of  rock  that 
sloped  suddenly  down  to  the  sea,  they  heard  another  sound 
— that  of  two  or  three  boys  calling  out  for  help.  The  brief- 
est glance  showed  what  was  going  on.  These  boys  were 
standing  on  the  rocks,  staring  fixedly  at  one  of  their  compan- 
ions who  had  fallen  into  the  water  and  was  wildly  splashing 
about,  while  all  they  could  do  to  help  him  was  to  call  for  aid 
at  the  pitch  of  their  voices. 

"  That  chap's  drowning  1 "  Trelyon  said,  jumping  out  of  the 
carriage. 

The  next  minute  he  was  out  on  the  rocks,  hastily  pulling 
off  his  coat.  What  was  it  he  heard  just  as  he  plunged  into 
the  sea — the  agonized  voice  of  a  girl  calling  him  back  ? 

Mrs.  Rosewarne  was  at  this  moment  staring  at  her  daugh- 
ter with  almost  a  horror-stricken  look  en  her  face.  Was  it 
really  Wenna  Rosewarne  who  had  been  so  mean ;  and  what 
madness  possessed  her  to  make  her  so  ?  The  girl  had  hold 
of  her  mother's  arm  with  both  her  hands,  and  held  it  with  the 
grip  of  a  vice ;  while  her  white  face  was  turned  to  the  rocks 
and  the  sea. 

"  Oh,  mother !  "  she  cried,  "  it  is  only  a  boy,  and  he  is  a 
man — and  there  is  not  another  in  all  the  world  like  him — " 

"  Wenna,  is  it  you  who  are  speaking ;  or  a  devil  ?  The 
boy  is  drowning !  " 

But  he  was  drowning  no  longer.  He  was  laid  hold  of  by 
a  strong  arm,  dragged  in  to  the  rocks,  and  there  fished  out 
by  his  companions.  Then  Trelyon  got  up  on  the  rocks,  and 
calmly  looked  at  his  dripping  clothes. 

"  You  are  a  nice  little  beast,  you  are  ! "  he  said  to   the 


200  THREE  FEATHERS. 

small  boy,  who  had  swallowed  a  good  deal  of  salt  water,  but 
was  otherwise  quite  unhurt.  "  How  do  you  expect  I  am 
going  home  in  these  trousers  ?  Perhaps  your  mother'll  pay 
me  for  a  new  pair,  eh  ?  And  give  you  a  jolly  good  thrashing 
for  tumbling  in  ?  Here's  a  half-crown  for  you,  you  young 
ruffian  ;  and  if  I  catch  you  on  these  rocks  again,  I'll  throw 
you  in  and  let  you  swim  for  it — see  if  I  don't." 

He  walked  up  to  the  carriage,  shaking  himself,  and  putting 
on  his  coat  as  he  went,  with  great  difficulty. 

"  Mrs.  Rosewarne,  I  must  walk  back — I  can't  think  of — " 

He  uttered  a  short  cry.  Wenna  was  lying  as  one  dead  in 
her  mother's  arms,  Mrs.  Rosewarne  vainly  endeavoring  to 
revive  her.  He  rushed  down  the  rocks  again  to  a  pool,  and 
soaked  his  handkerchief  in  the  water ;  then  he  went  hurriedly 
back  to  the  carriage,  and  put  the  cool  handkerchief  on  her 
temples  and  on  her  face. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Trelyon,  do  go  away,  or  you  will  get  your  death 
of  cold  ! "  Mrs.  Rosewarne  said.  "  Leave  Wenna  to  me. 
See,  there  is  a  gentleman  who  will  lend  you  his  horse,  and 
you  will  get  to  your  hotel  directly." 

He  did  not  even  answer  her.  His  own  face  was  about  as 
pale  as  that  of  the  girl  before  him,  and  hers  was  that  of  a 
corpse.  But  by  and  by  strange  tremors  passed  through  her 
frame ;  her  hands  tightened  their  grip  of  her  mother's  arm, 
and,  with  a  sort  of  shudder,  she  opened  her  eyes  and  fearfully 
looked  around.  She  caught  sight  of  the  young  man  standing 
there ;  she  scarcely  seemed  to  recognize  him  for  a  moment. 
And  then,  with  a  quick  nervous  action,  she  caught  at  his 
hand  and  kissed  it  twice,  hurriedly  and  wildly;  then  she 
turned  to  her  mother,  hid  her  face  in  her  bosom,  and  burst 
into  a  flood  of  tears.  Probably  the  girl  scarcely  knew  all 
that  had  taken  place ;  but  her  two  companions,  in  silence, 
and  with  a  great  apprehension  filling  their  hearts,  saw  and  rec- 
ognized the  story  she  had  told. 

"Mr.  Trelyon,"  said  Mrs,  Rosewarne,  "you  must  not  re- 
main here." 

Mechanically  he  obeyed  her.  The  gentleman  who  had 
been  riding  along  the  road  had  dismounted,  and,  fearing 
some  accident  had  occurred,  had  come  forward  to  offer  his 
assistance.  When  he  was  told  how  matters  stood,  he  at  once 
gave  Trelyon  his  horse  to  ride  into  Penzance ;  and  then  the 
carriage  was  driven  off  also,  at  a  considerably  less  rapid  pace. 

That  evening  Trelyon,  having  got  into  warm  clothes  and 
dined,  went  along  to  ask  how  Wenna  was.  His  heart  beat 
hurriedly  as   he    knocked   at  the  door.     He   had  intended 


MA  B  YN  DREA  MS.  20 1 

merely  making  the  inquiry,  and  coming  away  again ;  but  the 
servant  said  that  Mrs.  Rosewarne  wished  to  see  him. 

He  went  up-stairs,  and  found  Mrs.  Rosewarne  alone. 
These  two  looked  at  each  other;  that  single  glance  told 
everything.  They  were  both  aware  of  the  secret  that  had 
been  revealed. 

For  an  instant  there  was  dead  silence  between  them  ;  and 
then  Mrs.  Rosewarne,  with  a  great  sadness  in  her  voice,  de- 
spite its  studied  calmness,  said — 

"  Mr.  Trelyon,  we  need  say  nothing  of  what  has  occurred. 
There  are  some  things  that  are  best  not  spoken  of.  But  I 
can  trust  to  you  not  to  seek  to  see  Wenna  before  you  leave 
here.  She  is  quite  recovered — only  a  little  nervous,  you 
know,  and  frightened.  To-morrow  she  will  be  quite  well 
again." 

"  You  will  bid  her  good-bye  for  me,"  he  said. 

But  for  the  tight  clasp  of  the  hand  between  these  two,  it 
was  an  ordinary  parting.  He  put  on  his  hat  and  went  out. 
Perhaps  it  was  the  cold  sea-air  that  made  his  face  so  pale. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

MABYN    DREAMS. 


"Yes,  mother,"  said  Mabyn,  bursting  into  the  room, 
"  here  I  am  ;  and  Jennifer's  down-stairs  with  my  box  ;  and  I 
am  to  stay  with  you  here  for  another  week  or  a  fortnight ; 
and  Wenna's  to  go  back  at  once,  for  the  whole  world  is  con- 
vulsed because  of  Mr.  Trelyon's  coming  of  age;  and  Mrs. 
Trelyon  has  sent  and  taken  all  our  spare  rooms  ;  and  father 
says'Wenna  must  come  back  directly,  for  it's  always  '  Wenna, 
do  this,'  and  '  Wenna,  do  that ; '  and  if  Wenna  isn't  there, 
of  course  the  sky  will  tumble  down  on  the  earth —  Mother, 
what's  the  matter,  and  where's  Wenna  ?  " 

Mabyn  was  suddenly  brought  up  in  the  middle  of  her  vol- 
uble speech  by  the  strange  expression  on  her  mother's 
face. 

"  Oh,  Mabyn,  something  dreadful  has  happened  to  our 
Wenna  ! " 

Mabyn  turned  deadly  white. 

"  Is  she  ill  ?  "  she  said,  almost  in  a  whisper. 

"  No,  not  ill,  but  a  great  trouble  has  fallen  on  her." 

Then  the  mother,  in  a  low  voice,  apparently  fearful  that 


202  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

any  one  should  overhear,  b.egan  to  tell  her  younger  daughter 
of  all  she  had  learned  within  the  past  day  or  two — how 
young  Trelyon  had  been  bold  enough  to  tell  Wenna  that  he 
loved  her ;  how  Wenna  had  dallied  with  her  conscience  and 
been  loth  to  part  with  him  ;  how  at  length  she  had  as  good 
as  revealed  to  him  that  she  loved  him  in  return ;  and  how 
she  was  now  overwhelmed  and  crushed  beneath  a  sense  of 
her  own  faithlessness  and  the  impossibility  of  making  repar- 
ation to  her  betrothed. 

"Only  to  think,  Mabyn,"  said  the  mother,  in  accents  of 
despair,  "  that  all  this  distress  should  have  come  about  in 
such  a  quiet  and  unexpected  way  !  Who  could  have  foreseen 
it  ?  Why,  of  all  people  in  the  world,  you  would  have 
thought  our  Wenna  was  the  least  likely  to  have  any  misery 
of  this  sort ;  and  many  a  time,  don't  you  remember,  I  used 
to  say  it  was  so  wise  of  her  getting  engaged  to  a  prudent  and 
elderly  man,  who  would  save  her  from  the  plagues  and 
trials  that  young  girls  often  suffer  at  the  hands  of  their 
lovers.  I  thought  she  was  so  comfortably  settled.  Every- 
thing promised  her  a  quiet  and  gentle  life.  And  now  this 
sudden  shock  has  come  upon  her,  she  seems  to  think  she  is 
not  fit  to  live,  and  she  goes  on  in  such  a  wild  way — " 

"  Where  is  she  ?  "  Mabyn  said,  abruptly. 

"  No,  no,  no,"  the  mother  said,  anxiously.  "  You  must  not 
speak  a  word  to  her,  Mabyn.  You  must  not  let  her  know  I 
have  told  you  anything  about  it.  Leave  her  to  herself  for 
a  while  at  least ;  if  you  spoke  to  her,  she  would  take  it  you 
meant  to  accuse  her ;  for  she  says  you  warned  her,  and  she 
would  pay  no  heed.     Leave  her  to  herself,  Mabyn." 

"  Then  where  is  Mr.  Trelyon  ?  "  said  Mabyn,  with  some 
touch  of  indignation  in  her  voice.  i(  What  is  he  doing  ?  Is 
he  leaving  her  to  herself  too  ?  " 

"  I  clont  know  what  you  mean,  Mabyn,"  her  mother  said, 
timidly. 

"  Why  doesn't  he  come  forward  like  a  man,  and  marry 
her  ?  "  said  Mabyn,  boldly.  "  Yes,  that  as  what  I  would  do, 
if  I  were  a  man.  She  has  sent  him  away  ?  Yes,  of  course. 
That  is  right  and  proper.  And  Wenna  will  go  on  doing 
what  is  right  and  proper,  if  you  allow  her,  to  the  very  end, 
and  the  end  will  be  a  lifetime  of  misery,  that's  all.  No,  my 
notion  is  that  she  should  do  something  that  is  not  right  and 
is  quite  improper,  if  only  it  makes  her  happy ;  and  you'll  see 
if  I  don't  get  her  to  do  it.  Why,  mother,  haven't  you  had 
eyes  to  see  that  these  two  have  been  in  love  for  years  ?  No- 
bodv  in  the  world  had  ever  the  least  control  over  him  but 


MAB  YN  DREAMS.  203 

her ;  he  would  do  anything  for  Wenna  ;  and  she — why,  she 
always  came  back  singing  after  she  had  met  and  spoken  to 
him.  And  then  you  talk  about  a  prudent  and  sensible  hus- 
band !  I  don't  want  Wenna  to  marry  a  watchful,  mean,  old 
stocking-darning  cripple,  who  will  creep  about  the  house  all 
day,  and  peer  into  cupboards,  and  give  her  fourpence-half- 
penny  a  week  to  live  on.  I  want  her  to  marry  a  man,  one 
that  is  strong  enough  to  protect  her  ;  and  I  tell  you,  mother — 
I've  said  it  before  and  I  say  it  again — she  shall  not  marry 
Mr.  Roscorla  !  " 

"  Mabyn  !  "  said  her  mother,  "  you  are  getting  madder  than 
ever.  Your  dislike  to  Mr.  Roscorla  is  most  unreasonable.  A 
cripple  ! — why — " 

"  Oh,  mother ! "  Mabyn  cried,  with  a  bright  light  on  her 
face,  "  only  think  of  our  Wenna  being  married  to  Mr.  Trelyon, 
and  how  happy  and  pleased  and  pretty  she  would  look  as  they 
went  walking  together !  And  then  how  proud  he  would  be 
to  have  so  nice  a  wife  ;  and  he  would  joke  about  her,  and  be 
very  impertinent,  but  he  would  simply  worship  her  all  the 
same,  and  do  everything  he  could  to  please  her.  And  he 
would  take  her  away  and  show  her  all  the  beautiful  places 
abroad ;  and  he  would  have  a  yacht,  too ;  and  he  would  give 
her  a  fine  house  in  London  ;  and  don't  you  think  our  Wenna 
would  fascinate  everybody  with  her  mouse-like  ways,  and  her 
nice,  small  steps  ?  And  if  they  did  have  any  trouble,  wouldn't 
she  be  better  to  have  somebody  with  her,  not  timid  and  anx- 
ious and  pettifogging,  but  somebody  who  wouldn't  be  cast 
down,  but  make  her  as  brave  as  himself  ?  " 

Miss  Mabyn  was  a  shrewd  young  woman,  and  she  saw  that 
her  mother's  quick,  imaginative,  sympathetic  nature  was  being 
captivated  by  this  picture.  She  determined  to  have  her  as  an 
ally. 

"  And  don't  you  see,  mother,  how  it  all  lies  within  her  reach  ? 
Harry  Trelyon  is  in  love  with  her — there  was  no  need  for  him 
to  say  so — I  knew  it  long  before  he  did.  And  she — why,  she 
has  told  him  now  that  she  cares  for  him;  and  if  I  were 
he,  I  know  what  I'd  do  in  his  place.  What  is  there  in  the 
way  ?     Why,  a — a  sort  of  understanding — " 

"  A  promise,  Mabyn,"  said  the  mother. 

"  Well,  a  promise,"  said  the  girl,  desperately,  and  coloring 
somewhat.  "  But  it  was  a  promise  given  in  ignorance — she 
didn't  know — how  could  she  know  ?  Everybody  knows  that 
such  promises  are  constantly  broken.  If  you  are  in  love  with 
somebody  else,  what's  the  good  of  your  keeping  the  promise  ? 
Now,  mother,  won't  you  argue  with  her  ?     See  here.     If  she 


204  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

keeps  her  promise,  there's  three  people  miserable.  If  she 
breaks  it,  there's  only  one — and  I  doubt  whether  he's  got  the 
capacity  to  be  miserable.  That's  two  to  one,  or  three  to  one, 
is  it  ?     Now  will  you  argue  with  her,  mother  ? " 

"  Mabyn,  Mabyn,"  the  mother  said,  with  a  shake  of  her 
head,  but  evidently  pleased  with  the  voice  of  the  tempter, 
"  your  fancy  has  run  away  with  you.  Why,  Mr.  Trelyon  has 
never  proposed  to  marry  her." 

"  I  know  he  wants  to,"  said  Mabyn,  confidently. 

"  How  can  you  know  ?  " 

"  I'll  ask  him  and  prove  it  to  you." 

"Indeed,"  said  the  mother,  sadly,  "it  is  no  thought  of  mar- 
riage that  is  in  Wenna's  head  just  now.  The  poor  girl  is  full 
of  remorse  and  apprehension.  I  think  she  would  like  to  start 
at  once  for  Jamaica,  and  fling  herself  at  Mr.  Roscorla's  feet, 
and  confess  her  fault.  I  am  glad  she  has  to  go  back  to  Eg- 
losilyan  ;  that  may  distract  her  mind  in  a  measure  ;  at  present 
she  is  suffering  more  than  she  shows." 

"  Where  is  she  ?  " 

"  In  her  own  room,  tired  out  and  fast  asleep.  I  looked  in 
a  few  minutes  ago." 

Mabyn  went  up-stairs,  after  having  seen  that  Jennifer  had 
properly  bestowed  her  box.  Wenna  had  just  risen  from  the 
sofa,  and  was  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  Her 
younger  and  taller  sister  went  blithely  forward  to  her,  kissed 
her  as  usual,  took  no  notice  of  the  sudden  flush  of  red  that 
sprang  into  her  face,  and  proceeded  to  state,  in  a  business- 
like fashion,  all  the  arrangements  that  had  to  be  made. 

"  Have  you  been  enjoying  yourself,  Wenna  ? "  Mabyn  said, 
with  a  fine  air  of  indifference. 

"  Oh  yes,"  Wenna  answered ;  adding  hastily,  "  don't  you 
think  mother  is  greatly  improved  ?  " 

"  Wonderfully.  I  almost  forgot  she  was  an  invalid.  How 
lucky  you  are  to  be  going  back  to  see  all  the  fine  doings  at  the 
Hall ;  of  course  they  will  ask  you  up." 

"  They  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  Wenna  said,  with  some 
asperity,  and  with  her  face  turned  aside. 

"  Lord  and  Lady  Amersham  have  already  come  to  the  Hall." 

"  Oh,  indeed  !  " 

"  Yes  ;  they  said  some  time  ago  that  there  was  a  good 
chance  of  Mr.  Trelyon  marrying  the  daughter — the  tall  girl 
with  the  yellow  hair,  you  remember  ?  " 

"  And  the  stooping  shoulders  ?  yes.  I  should  think  they 
would  be  glad  to  get  her  married  to  anybody.     She's  thirty." 

"Oh,  Wenna!" 


MABYN  DREAMS.  205 

"  Mr.  Trelyon  told  me  so,"  said  Wenna,  sharply. 

"  And  they  are  a  little  surprised,"  continued  Mabyn,  in 
the  same  indifferent  way,  but  watching  her  sister  all  the 
while,  "  that  Mr.  Trelyon  has  remained  absent  until  so  near 
the  time.  But  I  suppose  he  means  to  take  Miss  Penakina 
with  him.  She  lives  here,  doesn't  she  ?  They  used  to  say 
there  was  a  chance  of  a  marriage  there,  too." 

"  Mabyn,  what  do  you  mean  ?  "  Wenna  said,  suddenly  and 
angrily.  "  What  do  I  care  about  Mr.  Trelyon's  marriage  ? 
What  is  it  you  mean  ?  " 

But  the  firmness  of  her  lips  began  to  yield  ;  there  was  an 
ominous  trembling  about  them  ;  and  at  the  same  moment 
her  younger  sister  caught  her  to  her  bosom,  and  hid  her  face 
there,  and  hushed  her  wild  sobbing.  She  would  hear  no 
confession.  She  knew  enough.  Nothing  would  convince 
her  that  Wenna  had  done  anything  wrong ;  so  there  was  no 
use  speaking  about  it. 

"Wenna,"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice,  "have  you  sent  him 
any  message  ?  " 

"  Oh  no,  no,"  the  girl  said,  trembling.  "  I  fear  even  to 
think  of  him ;  and  when  you  mentioned  his  name,  Mabyn,  it 
seemed  to  choke  me.  And  now  I  have  to  go  back  to  Eglo- 
silyan ;  and,  oh !  if  you  only  knew  how  I  dread  that, 
Mabyn!" 

Mabyn's  conscience  was  struck.  She  it  was  who  had  done 
this  thing.  She  had  persuaded  her  father  that  her  mother 
needed  another  week  or  fortnight  at  Penzance  ;  she  had 
frightened  him  by  telling  him  what  bother  he  would  suffer  if 
Wenna  were  not  back  at  the  inn  during  the  festivities  at 
Trelyon  Hall  ;^and  then  she  had  offered  to  go  and  take  her 
sister's  post.  "  George  Rosewarne  was  heartily  glad  to  ex- 
change the  one  daughter  for  the  other.  Mabyn  was  too  inde- 
pendent. She  thwarted  him  ;  sometimes  she  insisted  on  his 
bestirring  himself.  Wenna,  on  the  other  hand,  went  about 
the  place  like  some  invisible  spirit  of  order,  making  every- 
thing comfortable  for  him,  without  noise  or  worry.  He  was 
easily  led  to  issue  the  necessary  orders  ;  and  so  it  was  that 
Mabyn  thought  she  was  doing  her  sister  a  friendly  turn  by 
sending  her  back  to  Eglosilyan  in  order  to  join  in  congratu- 
lating Harry  Trelyon  on  his  entrance  into  man's  estate. 
Now  Mabyn  found  that  she  had  only  plunged  her  sister  into 
deeper  trouble. 

What  could  be  done  to  save  her  ? 

"  Wenna,"  said  Mabyn,  rather  timidly,  "  do  you  think  he 
has  left  Penzance  ?  " 


206  THREE  FEATHERS. 

Wenna  turned  to  her  with  a  sudden  look  of  entreaty  in  her 
face. 

"  I  cannot  bear  to  speak  of  him,  Mabyn.  I  have  no  right 
to— I  hope  you  will  not  ask  me.  Just  now  I — I  am  going  to 
write  a  letter — to  Jamaica.  I  shall  tell  the  whole  truth.  It 
is  for  him  to  say  what  must  happen  now.  I  have  done  him  a 
great  injury.  I  did  not  intend  it ;  I  had  no  thought  of  it ; 
but  my  own  folly  and  thoughtlessness-brought  it  about,  and"  I 
have  to  bear  the  penalty.  I  don't  think  he  need  be  anxious 
about  punishing  me." 

She  turned  away  with  a  tired  look  on  her  face,  and  began 
to  get  out  her  writing  materials.  Mabyn  watched  her  for  a 
moment  or  two  in  silence  ;  then  she  left  and  went  to  her 
own  room,  saying  to  herself,  "  Punishment !  Whoever  talks 
of  punishment  will  have  to  address  himself  to  me." 

When  she  got  to  her  own  room,  she  wrote  these  words  on 
apiece  of  paper — in  her  firm,  bold,  free  hand — " A  friend 
would  like  to  see  you  for  a  minute  in  front  of  the  Post-office  in 
the  middle  of  the  town:'  She  put  that  in  an  envelope,  and  ad- 
dressed the  envelope  to  Harry  Trelyon,  Esq.  Still  keeping 
her  bonnet  on,  she  went  down-stairs,  and  had  a  little  general 
conversation  with  her  mother,  in  the  course  of  which  she 
quite  casually  asked  the  name  of  the  hotel  at  which  Mr.  Trel- 
yon had  been  staying.  Then,  just  as  if  she  were  going  out 
to  the  Parade  to  have  a  look  at  the  sea,  she  carelessly  left 
the  house. 

The  dusk  of  the  evening  was  growing  to  dark.  A  white 
mist  lay  over  the  sea.  The  solitary  lamps  were  being  lit 
along  the  Parade— each  golden  star  shining  sharply  in  the 
pale  purple  twilight  ;  but  a  more  confused  glow  of  orange 
showed  where  the  little  town  was  busy  in  its  narrow  thorough- 
fares. She  got  hold  of  a  small  boy,  gave  him  the  letter,  six- 
pence, and  his  instructions.  He  was  to  ask  if  the  gentleman 
were  in  the  hotel.  If  not,  had  he  left  Penzance,  or  would  he 
return  that  night  ?  In  any  case  the  boy  was  not  to  leave  the 
letter  unless  Mr.  Trelyon  were  there. 

The  small  boy  returned  in  a  couple  of  minutes.  The  gen- 
tleman was  there,  and  had  taken  the  letter.  So  Mabyn  at 
once  set  out  for  the  centre  of  the  town,  and  soon  found  her- 
self in  among  a  mass  of  huddled  houses,  bright  shops,  and 
thoroughfares  pretty  well  filled  with  strolling  sailors,  women 
getting  home  from  market,  and  townspeople  come  out  to 
gossip.  She  had  accurately  judged  that  she  would  be  less 
observed  in  this  busy  little  place  than  out  on  the  Parade  ; 
and   as    it  was   the   first  appointment   she    had  ever   made 


MABYN  DREAMS.  207 

to  meet  a  young  gentleman  alone,  she  was  just  a  little 
nervous. 

Trelyon  was  there.  He  had  recognized  the  handwriting  in 
a  moment.  He  had  no  time  to  ridicule  or  even  to  think  of 
Mabyn's  school-girl  affectation  of  secrecy ;  he  had  at  once 
rushed  off  to  the  place  of  appointment,  and  that  by  a  short 
cut  of  which  she  had  no  knowledge. 

"  Mabyn,  what's  the  matter  ?  Is  Wenna  ill  ?  "  he  said — for- 
getting in  his  anxiety  even  to  shake  hands  with  her. 

"  Oh  no,  she  isn't,"  said  Mabyn,  rather  coldly  and  defiantly. 
If  he  was  in  love  with  her  sister,  it  was  for  him  to  make  ad- 
vances. 

"  Oh  no,  she's  pretty  well,  thank  you,"  continued  Mabyn, 
indifferently.  "  But  she  never  could  stand  much  worry.  I 
wanted  to  see  you  about  that.  She  is  going  back  to  Eglosil- 
yan  to-morrow;  and  you  must  promise  not  to  have  her  asked 
up  to  the  Hall  while  these  grand  doings  are  going  on — you 
must  not  try  to  see  her  and  persuade  her — if  you  could  keep 
out  of  her  way  altogether — " 

"  You  know  all  about  it,  then,  Mabyn  ?  "  he  said,  suddenly ; 
and  even  in  the  dusky  light  of  the  street  she  could  see  the 
rapid  look  of  gladness  that  filled  his  face.  "  And  you  are 
not  going  to  be  vexed,  eh  ?  You'll  remain  friends  with  me, 
Mabyn — you  will  tell  me  how  she  is  from  time  to  time. 
Don't  you  see  I  must  go  away — and,  by  Jove,  Mabyn,  I've 
got  such  a  lot  to  tell  you  !  " 

She  looked  around. 

"  I'can't  talk  to  you  here.  Won't  you  walk  back  by  the 
other  road  behind  the  town  ? "  he  said. 

Yes,  she  would  go  willingly  with  him  now.  The  anxiety  of 
his  face,  the  almost  wild  way  in  which  he  seemed  to  beg  for 
her  help  and  friendship,  the  mere  impatience  of  his  manner 
pleased  and  satisfied  her.  This  was  as  it  should  be.  Here 
was  no  sweetheart  by  line  and  rule,  demonstrating  his  affec- 
tion by  argument,  acting  at  all  times  with  a  studied  pro- 
priety ;  but  a  real,  true  lover,  full  of  passionate  hope  and  as 
passionate  fear,  ready  to  do  anything,  and  yet  not  knowing 
what  to  do.  Above  all  he  was  "brave  and  handsome,  like  a 
prince  !  "  and  therefore  a  fit  lover  for  her  gentle  sister. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said,  with  a  great  burst  of  confi- 
dence, "  I  did  so  fear  that  you  might  be  indifferent !  " 

"Indifferent ! "  said  he,  with  some  bitterness.  "  Per- 
haps that  is  the  best  thing  that  could  happen  ;  only  it  isn't  very 
likely  to  happen.  Did  you  ever  see  anybody  placed  as  I  am 
placed,  Mabyn  ?     Nothing  but  stumbling-blocks  every  way  I 


2o3  THREE  FEATHERS. 

look.  Our  family  have  always  been  hot-headed  and  hot-tem- 
pered ;  if  I  told  my  grandmother  at  this  minute  how  I  am 
situated,  I  believe  she  would  say,  '  Why  don't  you  go  like  a 
man,  and  run  off  with  the  girl  ? ' — " 

"  Yes  !  "  said  Mabyn,  quite  delighted. 

"  But  suppose  you've  bothered  and  worried  the  girl  until 
you  feel  ashamed  of  yourself,  and  she  begs  of  you  to  leave 
her,  aren't  you  bound  in  fair  manliness  to  go  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Mabyn,  doubtfully. 

"  Well,  I  do.  It  would  be  very  mean  to  pester  her.  I'm 
off  as  soon  as  these  people  leave  the  Hall.  But  then  there 
are  other  things.  There  is  your  sister  engaged  to  this 
fellow  out  in  Jamaica — " 

"  Isn't  he  a  horried  wretch !  "  said  Mabyn  between  her 
teeth. 

"  Oh,  I  quite  agree  with  you.  If  I  could  have  it  out  with 
him  now — but  after  all,  what  harm  has  the  man  done  ?  Is 
it  any  wonder  he  wanted  to  get  Wenna  for  a  wife  ?  " 

"Oh,  but  he  cheated  her,"  said  Mabyn,  warmly.  "He 
persuaded  her,  and  reasoned  with  her,  and  argued  her  into 
marrying  him.  And  what  business  had  he  to  tell  her  that 
love  between  young  people  is  all  bitterness  and  trial ;  and 
that  a  girl  is  only  safe  when  she  marries  a  prudent  and  elderly 
man  who  will  look  after  her  ?  Why,  it  is  to  look  after  him 
that  he  wants  her.  Wenna  is  going  to  him  as  a  housekeeper 
and  a  nurse.  Only — only,  Mr.  Trelyon,  she  hasn't  gone  to 
him  just  yet  /" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  think  he  did  anything  unfair,"  the  young  man 
said,  gloomily.  "  It  doesn't  matter  anyhow.  What  I  was 
going  to  say  is  that  my  grandmother's  notion  of  what  one  of 
our  family  ought  to  do  in  such  a  case  can't  be  carried  out : 
whatever  you  may  think  of  a  man,  you  can't  go  and  try  to  rob 
him  of  his  sweetheart  behind  his  back.  Even  supposing  she 
was  willing  to  break  with  him,  which  she  is  not,  you've  at 
least  got  to  wait  to  give  the  fellow  a  chance." 

"  There  I  quite  disagree  with  you,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  Mabyn 
said,  warmly.  "Wait  to  give  him  a  chance  to  make  our 
Wenna  miserable  ?  Is  she  to  be  made  the  prize  of  a  sort  of 
fight  ?  If  I  were  a  man,  I'd  pay  less  attention  to  my  own 
scruples  and  try  what  I  could  do  for  her—  Oh,  Mr.  Trelyon 
— I — I  beg  your  pardon." 

Mabyn  suddenly  stopped  on  the  road,  overwhelmed  with 
confusion.  She  had  been  so  warmly  thinking  of  her  sister's 
welfare  that  she  had  been  hurried  into  something  worse  than 
an  indiscretion. 


MABYN  DREAMS.  209 

"  What,  then,  Mabyn  ? "  said  he,  profoundly  surprised. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  have  been  so  thoughtless.  I  had 
no  right  to  assume  that  you  wished — that  you  wished  for  the 
— for  the  opportunity — " 

"  Of  marrying  Wenna  ?  "  said  he,  with  a  great  stare.  "  But 
what  else  have  we  been  speaking  about  ?  Or  rather,  I  sup- 
pose we  did  assume  it.  Well,  the  more  I  think  of  it,  Mabyn, 
the  more  I  am  maddened  by  all  these  obstacles,  and  by  the 
notion  of  all  the  things  that  may  happen.  That's  the  bad 
part  of  my  going  away.  How  can  I  tell  what  may  happen  ? 
He  might  come  back,  and  insist  on  her  marrying  him  right 
off." 

"  Mr.  Trelyon,"  said  Mabyn,  speaking  very  clearly,  "  there's 
one  thing  you  may  be  sure  of.  If  you  let  me  know  where 
you  are,  nothing  will  happen  to  Wenna  that  you  don't  hear  of." 

He  took  her  hand,  and  pressed  it  in  mute  thankfulness.  He 
was  not  insensible  to  the  value  of  having  so  warm  an  advocate, 
so  faithful  an  ally,  always  at  Wenna's  side. 

"  How  long  do  letters  take  in  going  to  Jamaica  ?  "  Mabyn 
asked. 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  I  could  fetch  him  back  for  you  directly,"  said  she,  "  if 
you  would  like  that." 

"  How  ? " 

"  By  writing  and  telling  him  that  you  and  Wenna  were  go- 
ing to  get  married.  Wouldn't  that  fetch  him  back  pretty 
quickly  ?  " 

"  I  doubt  it.  He  wouldn't  believe  it  of  Wenna.  Then  he 
is  a  sensible  sort  of  fellow,  and  would  say  to  himself  that,  if 
the  news  was  true,  he  would  have  his  journey  for  nothing. 
Besides,  Barnes  says  that  things  are  looking  well  with  him  in 
Jamaica — better  than  anybody  expected.  He  might  not  be 
anxious  to  leave." 

They  had  now  got  back  to  the  Parade,  and  Mabyn  stopped. 

"I  must  leave  you  now,  Mr.  Trelyon.  Mind  not  to  go 
near  Wenna  when  you  get  to  Eglosilyan — " 

"  She  sha'n't  even  see  me.  I  shall  be  there  only  a  couple 
of  days  or  so ;  then  I  am  going  to  London.  I  am  going  to 
have  a  try  at  the  Civil  Service  examinations — for  first  com- 
missions, you  know.  I  shall  only  come  back  to  Eglosilyan 
for  a  day  now  and  again  at  long  intervals.  You  have 
promised'  to  write  to  me,  Mabyn — well,  I'll  send  you  my 
address." 

She  looked  at  laim  keenly  as  she  offered  him  her  hand. 


210  THREE  FEATHERS. 

"  I  wouldn't  be  downhearted  if  I  were  you,"  she  said. 
"Very  odd  things  sometimes  happen." 

"  Oh,  I  sha'n't  be  downhearted,"  said  he,  "  so  long  as  I  hear 
that  she  is  all  right,  and  not  vexing  herself  about  anything." 

"Good-bye,  Mr.  Trelyon,  I  am  sorry  I  can't  take  any 
message  for  you." 

"  To  her  ?  No,  that  is  impossible.  Good-bye,  Mabyn  ;  I 
think  you  are  the  best  friend  I  have  in  the  world." 

"  We'll  see  about  that,"  she  said,  as  she  walked  rapidly  off. 

Her  mother  had  been  sufficiently  astonished  by  her  long 
absence  ;  she  was  now  equally  surprised  by  the  excitement 
and  pleasure  visible  in  her  face. 

"  Oh,  mammy,  do  you  know  whom  I've  seen  ?  Mr.  Trel- 
yon ! 

"  Mabyn ! " 

"  Yes.  We've  walked  right  around  Penzance — all  by  our- 
selves.    And  it's  all  settled,  mother." 

"  What  is  all  settled  ? " 

"The  understanding  between  him  and  me.  An  offensive 
and  defensive  alliance.     Let  tyrants  beware !  " 

She  took  off  her  bonnet,  and  came  and  sat  down  on  the 
floor  by  the  side  of  the  sofa. 

"  Oh,  mammy,  I  see  such  beautiful  things  in  the  future — 
you  wouldn't  believe  it  if  I  told  you  all  I  see  !  Everybody 
else  seems  determined  to  forecast  such  gloomy  events— there's 
Wenna  crying  and  writing  letters  of  contrition,  and  expecting 
all  sorts  of  anger  and  scolding  ;  there's  Mr.  Trelyon,  haunted 
by  the  notion  that  Mr.  Roscorla  will  suddenly  come  home 
and  marry  Wenna  right  off  ;  and  as  for  him  out  there  in  Ja- 
maica, I  expect  he'll  be  in  a  nice  state  when  he  hears  of  all 
this.  But  far  on  a  head  of  all  that  I  see  such  a  beautiful  pic- 
ture—" 

"  It  is  a  dream  of  yours,  Mabyn,"  her  mother  said  ;  but 
there  was  an  imaginative  light  in  her  fine  eyes,  too. 

"No,  it  is  not  a  dream,  mother;  for  there  are  so  many 
people  all  wishing  now  that  it  should  come  about,  in  spite  of 
of  these  gloomy  fancies.  What  is  there  to  prevent  it,  when 
we  are  all  agreed  ?  Mr.  Trelyon  and  I  heading  the  list  with 
our  important  alliance  ;  and  you,  mother,  would  be  so  proud 
to  see  Wenna  happy ;  and  Mrs.  Trelyon  pets  her  as  if  she 
were  a  daughter  already,  and  everybody — every  man,  woman, 
and  child  in  Eglosilyan  would  rather  see  that  come  about 
than  get  a  guinea  apiece.  Oh,  mother,  if  you  could  see  the 
picture  that  I  see  just  now — " 

"  It  is  a  pretty  picture,  Mabyn,"  her  mother  said,  shaking 


FERN-  IN  DIE   WEL  T.  2  r  r 

her  head.  "  But  when  you  think  of  everybody  being  agreed, 
you  forget  one,  and  that  is  Wenna  herself.  Whatever  she 
thinks  fit  and  right  to  do,  that  she  is  certain  to  do,  and  all 
your  alliances  and  friendly  wishes  won't  alter  her  decision, 
even  if  it  should  break  her  heart.  And,  indeed,  I  hope  the 
poor  child  won't  sink  under  the  terrible  sixain  that  is  on  her  : 
what  do  you  think  of  her  looks,  Mabyn  ?  " 

"They  want  mending;  yes,  they  want  mending,"  Mabyn 
admitted,  apparently  with  some  compunction ;  but  then  she 
added,  boldly,  "  and  you  know  as  well  as  I  do,  mother,  that 
there  is  but  the  one  way  of  mending  them  J  " 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

FERN    IN    DIE   WELT. 

If  this  story  were  not  tied  by  its  title  to  the  Duchy  of 
Cornwall,  it  might  be  interesting  enough  to  follow  Mr.  Ros- 
corla  into  the  new  world  that  had  opened  all  around  him, 
and  say  something  of  the  sudden  shock  his  old  habits  had 
thus  received,  and  of  the  quite  altered  views  of  his  own  life 
he  had  been  led  to  form.  As  matters  stand,  we  can  only 
pay  him  a  flying  visit. 

He  is  seated  in  a  veranda,  fronting  a  garden,  in  which 
pomegranates  and  oranges  form  the  principal  fruit  Down 
below  him  some  blacks  are  bringing  provisions  up  to  Yacca 
Farm,  along  the  cactus  avenue  leading  to  the  gate.  Far 
away  on  his  right,  the  last  rays  of  the  sun  are  shining  on  the 
summit  of  Blue  Mountain  Peak*,  and  along  the  horizon  the 
reflected  glow  of  the  sky  shines  on  the  calm  sea.  It  is  a 
fine,  still  evening ;  his  cigar  smells  sweet  in  the  air ;  it  is  a 
time  for  indolent  dreaming  and  for  memories  of  home. 

But  Mr.  Roscorla  is  not  so  much  enraptured  by  thoughts 
of  home  as  he  might  be. 

"  Why,"  he  is  saying  to  himself,  "  my  life  in  Basset  Cot- 
tage was  no  life  at  all,  but  only  a  waiting  for  death.  Day 
after  day  passed  in  that  monotonous  fashion  ;  what  had  one 
to  look  forward  to  but  old  age,  sickness,  and  then  the  quiet 
of  a  coffin  ?  It  was  nothing  but  an  hourly  procession  to  the 
grave,  varied  by  rabbit-shooting.  This  bold  breaking  away 
from  the  narrow  life  of  such  a  place  has  given  me  a  new 
lease  of  existence.  Now  I  can  look  back  with  surprise  on 
the  dulness  of  that  Cornish  village,  and  on  the  regularity  of 


2X2  THREE  FEATHERS. 

habits  which  I  did  not  know  were  habits.  For  is  not  that 
always  the  case  ?  You  don't  know  that  you  are  forming  a 
habit ;  you  take  each  act  to  be  an  individual  act,  which  you 
may  perform  or  not  at  will ;  but  all  the  same  the  succession 
of  them  is  getting  you  into  its  power,  custom  gets  a  grip  of 
your  ways  of  thinkyig  as  well  as  your  ways  of  living ;  the 
habit  is  formed,  and  it  does  not  cease  its  hold  until  it  con- 
ducts you  to  the  grave.  Try  Jamaica  for  a  cure.  Fling  a 
sleeping  man  into  the  sea,  and  watch  if  he  does  not  wake. 
Why,  when  I  look  back  to  the  slow,  methodical,  commonplace 
life  I  led  at  Eglosilyan,  can  I  wonder  that  I  was  sometimes 
afraid  of  Wenna  Rosewarne  regarding  me  as  a  staid  and  ven- 
erable person,  on  whose  infirmities  she  ought  to  take  pity  ? " 

He  rose  and  began  to  walk  up  and  down  the  veranda, 
putting  his  foot  down  firmly.  His  loose  linen  suit  was  smart 
enough ;  his  complexion  had  been  improved  by  the  sun. 
The  consciousness  that  his  business  affairs  were  promising 
well  did  not  lessen  his  sense  of  self-importance. 

"Wenna  must  be  prepared  to  move  about  a  bit  when  I 
go  back,"  he  was  saying  to  himself.  "  She  must  give  up 
that  daily  attendance  on  cottagers'  children.  If  all  turns  out 
well,  I  don't  see  why  we  should  not  live  in  London  ;  for  who 
will  know  there  who  her  father  was  ?  That  consideration  was 
of  no  consequence  so  long  as  I  looked  forward  to  living  the 
rest  of  my  life  in  Basset  Cottage ;  now  there  are  other  things 
to  be  thought  of  when  there  is  a  chance  of  my  going  among 
my  old  friends  again." 

By  this  time,  it  must  be  observed,  Mr.  Roscorla  had  aban- 
doned his  hasty  intention  of  returning  to  England  to  upbraid 
Wenna  with  having  received  a  ring  from  Harry  Trelyon. 
After  all,  he  reasoned  with  himself,  the  mere  fact  that  she 
should  talk  thus  simply  and  frankly  about  young  Trelyon 
showed  that,  so  far  as  she  was  concerned,  her  loyalty  to  her 
absent  lover  was  unbroken.  As  for  the  young  gentleman 
himself,  he  was,  Mr.  Roscorla  knew,  fond  of  joking.  He  had 
doubtless  thought  it  a  fine  thing  to  make  a  fool  of  two  or 
three  women  by  imposing  on  them  this  cock-and-bull  story  of 
finding  a  ring  by  dredging.  He  was  a  little  angry  that 
Wenna  should  have  been  deceived  ;  but  then,  he  reflected, 
these  gypsy  rings  are  so  much  like  one  another  that, the 
young  man  had  probably  got  a  pretty  fair  duplicate.  For  the 
rest,  he  did  not  want  to  quarrel  with  Harry  Trelyon  at 
present. 

But  as  he  was  walking  up  and  down  this  veranda,  looking 
a  much  younger  and  brisker  man  than  the  Mr.  Roscorla  who 


FERN  IN  DIE  WELT.  213 

had  left  Eglosilyan,  a  servant  came  through  the  house  and 
brought  him  a  couple  of  letters.  He  saw  they  were  respect- 
ively from  Mr.  Barnes  and  from  Wenna ;  and,  curiously 
enough,  he  opened  the  reverend  gentleman's  first — perhaps 
as  school-boys  like  to  leave  the  best  bit  of  a  tart  to  the  last. 

He  read  the  letter  over  carefully ;  he  sat  down  and  read  it 
again ;  then  he  put  it  before  him  on  the  table.  He  was 
evidently  puzzled  by  it. 

"  What  does  this  man  mean  by  writing  these  letters  to 
me  ?  " — so  Mr.  Roscorla,  who  was  a  cautious  and  reflective 
person,  communed  with  himself.  "  He  is  no  particular  friend 
of  mine.  He  must  be  driving  at  something.  Now  he  says 
I  am  to  be  of  good  cheer.  I  must  not  think  anything  of 
what  he  formerly  wrote.  Mr.  Trelyon  is  leaving  Eglosilyan 
for  good,  and  his  mother  will  at  last  have  some  peace  of 
mind.  What  a  pity  it  is  that  this  sensitive  creature  should 
be  at  the  mercy  of  the  rude  passions  of  this  son  of  hers — that 
she  should  have  no  protector — that  she  should  be  allowed  to 
mope  herself  to  death  in  a  melancholy  seclusion." 

An  odd  fancy  occurred  to  Mr.  Roscorla  at  this  moment, 
and  he  smiled. 

"  I  think  I  have  got  a  clew  to  Mr.  Barnes's  disinterested 
anxiety  about  my  affairs.  The  widower  would  like  to  pro- 
tect the  solitary  and  unfriended  widow  ;  but  the  young  man 
is  in  the  way.  The  young  man  would  be  very  much  in  the 
way  if  he  married  Wenna  Rosewarne  ;  the  widower's  fears 
drive  him  into  suspicion,  then  .into  certainty  ;  nothing  will  do 
but  that  I  should  return  to  England  at  once,  and  spoil  this 
little  arrangement.  But  as  soon  as  Harry  Trelyon  declares 
his  intention  of  leaving  Eglosilyan  for  good,  then  my  affairs 
may  go  anyhow.  Mr.  Barnes  finds  the  coast  clear;  I  am 
bidden  to  stay  where  I  am.  Well,  that  is  what  I  mean  to  do ; 
but  now  I  fancy  I  understand  Mr.  Barnes's  generous  friend- 
ship for  me  and  his  affectionate  correspondence." 

He  turned  to  Wenna's  letter  with  much  compunction.  He 
owed  her  some  atonement  for  having  listened  to  the  disin- 
genuous reports  of  this  scheming  clergyman.  How  could  he 
have  so  far  forgotten  the  firm,  uncompromising  rectitude  of 
the  gill's  character,  her  sensitive  notions  of  honor,  the  prom- 
ises she  had  given  ? 

He  read  the  letter,  and  as  he  read  his  eyes  seemed  to  grow 
hot  with  rage.  He  paid  no  heed  to  the  passionate  contrition 
of  the  trembling  lines ;  to  the  obvious  pain  that  she  had  en- 
dured in  telling  the  story,  without  concealment,  against  her- 
self; to  the  utter  and  abject  wretchedness  with  which  she 


214  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

awaited  his  decision.  It  was  thus  she  had  kept  faith  with 
him  the  moment  his  back  was  turned.  Such  were  the  safe- 
guards afforded  by  a  woman's  sense  of  honor.  What  a  fool 
he  had  been  to  imagine  that  any  woman  could  remain  true  to 
her  promise  so  soon  as  some  other  object  of  flirtation  and  in- 
cipient love-making  came  in  her  way ! 

He  looked  at  the  letter  again  :  he  could  scarcely  believe  it 
to  be  in  her  handwriting.  This  the  quiet,  reasonable,  gentle, 
and  timid  Wenna  Rosewarne,  whose  virtues  were  almost  a 
trifle  too  severe  ?  The  despair  and  remorse  over  the  letter 
did  not  touch  him — he  was  too  angry  and  indignant  over  the 
insult  to  himself — but  it  astonished  him.  The  passionate 
emotion  of  those  closely  written  pages  he  could  scarcely  con- 
nect with  the  shy,  frank,  kindly  little  girl  he  remembered ;  it 
was  a  cry  of  agony  from  a  tortured  woman,  and  he  knew  at 
least  that  for  her  the  old,  quiet  time  was  over. 

He  knew  not  what  to  do.  All  this  that  had  happened  was 
new  to  him ;  it  was  old  and  gone  by  in  England,  anc]  who 
could  tell  what  further  complications  might  have  arisen  ?  But 
his  anger  required  some  vent ;  he  went  indoors,  called  for  a 
lamp,  and  sat  down  and  wrote,  with  a  hard  and  resolute  look 
on  his  face : 

"  I  have  received  your  letter.  I  am  not  surprised.  You 
are  a  woman  ;  and  I  ought  to  have  known  that  a  woman's 
promise  is  of  value  so  long  as  you  are  by  her  side  to  see  that 
she  keeps  it.  You  ask  what  reparation  you  can  make  ;  I  ask 
if  there  is  any  that  you  can  suggest.  No ;  you  have  done 
what  cannot  be  undone.  Do  you  think  a  man  would  marry 
a  woman  who  is  in  love  with,  or  has  been  in  love  with  another 
man,  even  if  he  could  overlook  her  breach  of  faith  and  the 
shameless  thoughtlessness  of  her  conduct  ?  My  course  is 
clear,  at  all  events.  I  give  you  back  the  promise  that  you 
did  not  know  how  to  keep ;  and  now  you  can  go  and  ask 
the  young  man  who  has  been  making  a  holiday  toy  of  you 
whether  he  will  be  pleased  to  marry  you. 

"  Richard  Roscorla." 

He  sealed  and  addressed  this  letter,  still  with  the  firm,  hard 
look  about  his  face  ;  then  he  summoned  a  servant — a  tall, 
red-haired  Irishman.     He  did  not  hesitate  for  a  moment. 

"  Look  here,  Sullivan,  the  English  mails  go  out  to-morrow 
morning — you  must  ride  down  to  the  Post-office,  as  hard  as 
you  can  go ;  and  if  you're  a  few  minutes  late,  see  Mr.  Keith, 
and  give  him  my  compliments,  and  ask  him  if  he  can  possi- 


FERN  IN  DTE  WELT.  2:5 

bly  take  this  letter  if  the  mails  are  not  made  up.  It  is  of  great 
importance.     Quick  now  !  " 

He  watched  the  man  go  clattering  down  the  cactus  avenue 
until  he  was  out  of  sight.  Then  he  turned,  put  the  letters  in 
his  pocket,  went  indoors,  and  again  struck  a  small  gong  that 
did  duty  for  a  bell.  He  wanted  his  horse  brought  around  at 
once.  He  was  going  over  to  Pleasant  Farm ;  probably  he 
would  not  return  that  night.  He  lit  another  cigar  and  paced 
up  and  down  the  gravel  in  front  of  the  house  until  the  horse  was 
brought  around. 

When  he  reached  Pleasant  Farm  the  stars  were  shining 
overhead,  and  the  odors  of  the  night-flowers  came  floating 
out  of  the  forest ;  but  inside  the  house  there  were  brilliant 
lights  and  the  voices  of  men  talking.  A  bachelor  supper- 
party  was  going  forward.  Mr.  Roscorla  entered,  and  pres- 
ently was  seated  at  the  hospitable  board. 

They  had  never  seen  him  so  gay  ;  and  they  had  certainly 
never  seen  him  so  generously  inclined,  for  Mr.  Roscorla  was 
economical  in  his  habits.  He  would  have  them  all  to  dinner 
the  next  evening,  and  promised  them  such  champagne  as  had 
never  been  sent  to  Kingston  before.  He  passed  around  his 
best  cigars;  he  hinted  something  about  unlimited  loo;  he 
drank  pretty  freely ;  and  was  altogether  in  a  jovial  humor. 

"  England  ?  "  he  said,  when  some  one  mentioned  the  mother 
country.  "  Of  one  thing  I  am  pretty  certain — England  will 
never  see  me  again.  No — a  man  lives  here;  in  England  he 
waits  for  his  death.  What  life  I  have  got  before  me  I  shall 
live  in  Jamaica — that  is  my  view  of  the  question." 

"  Then  she  is  coming  out  to  you  ?  "  said  his  host,  with  a 
grin. 

Roscorla's  face  flushed  with  anger. 

"  There  is  no  she  in  the  matter,"  he  said,  abruptly,  almost 
fiercely.     "  I  thank  God  I  am  not  tied  to  any  woman." 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  his  host,  good-naturedly, 
who  did  not  care  to  recall  the  occasions  on  which  Mr.  Ros- 
corla had  been  rather  pleased  to  admit  that  certain  tender  ties 
bound  him  to  his  native  land. 

"  No,  there  is  not !  "  he  said.  "  What  fool  would  have  his 
comfort  and  peace  of  mind  depend  on  the  caprice  of  a  woman  ? 
I  like  your  plan  better,  Rogers  :  when  they're  dependent  on 
you,  you  can  do  as  you  like ;  but  when  they've  got  to  be 
treated  as  equals,  they're  the  devil.  No,  my  boys,  you  don't 
find  me  going  in  for  the  angel  in  the  house — she's  too  exact- 
ing.    Is  it  to  be  unlimited  ?  " 

Now,  to  play  unlimited  loo  in  a  reckless  fashion  is  about 


2l6  THREE  FEATHERS. 

the  easiest  way  of  getting  rid  of  money  that  the  ingenuity  of 
man  has  devised.  The  other  players  were  much  better  qual- 
ified to  run  such  risks  than  Mr.  Roscorla ;  but  none  played 
half  so  wildly  as  he.  I.O.U.'s  went  freely  about.  At  one 
point  in  the  evening  the  floating  paper  bearing  the  signature 
of  Mr.  Roscorla  represented  a  sum  of  about  ^300;  and  yet 
his  losses  did  not  weigh  heavily  on  him.  At  length  every  one 
got  tired,  and  it  was  resolved  to  stop  short  at  a  certain  hour. 
But  from  this  point  the  luck  changed ;  nothing  could  stand 
against  his  cards  ;  one  by  one  -his  I.O.U.'s  were  recalled  ; 
and  when  they  all  rose  from  the  table  he  had  won  about  £$>. 
He  was  not  elated. 

He  went  to  his  room,  and  sat  down  in  an  easy-chair ;  and 
then  it  seemed  to  him  that  lie  saw  Eglosilyan  once  more,  and 
the  far  coasts  of  Cornwall,  and  the  broad  uplands  lying  un- 
der a  blue  English  sky.  That  was  his  home,  and  he  had  cut 
himself  away  from  it,  and  from  the  little  glimmer  of  romance 
that  had  recently  brightened  it  for  him.  Every  bit  of  the 
place,  too,  was  associated  somehow  with  Wenna  Rosewarne. 
He  could  see  the  seat,  fronting  the  Atlantic,  on  which  she 
used  to  sit  and  sew  on  the  fine  summer  forenoons.  He  could 
see  the  rough  road,  leading  over  the  downs,  on  which  he  met 
her  one  wintry  morning,  she  wrapped  up  and  driving  her 
father's  dog-cart,  while  the  red  sun  in  the  sky  seemed  to 
brighten  the  pink  color  the  cold  wind  had  brought  into  her 
cheeks.  He  thought  of  her  walking  sedately  up  to  church ; 
of  her  wild  scramblings  among  the  rocks  with  Mabyn  ;  of  her 
enjoyment  of  a  fierce  wind  when  it  came  laden  with  the  spray 
of  the  great  rollers  breaking  on  the  cliff  outside.  What  was 
the  song  she  used  to  sing  to  herself  as  she  went  along  the 
quietTwood-land  ways  ? — 

"  Your  Polly  has  never  been  false,  she  declares, 
Since  last  time  we  parted  at  Wapping  Old  Stairs." 

He  could  not  let  her  go.  All  the  anger  of  wounded  vanity 
had  left  his  heart ;  he  thought  now  only  of  the  chance  he  was 
throwing  away.  Where  else  could  he  hope  to  find  for  him- 
self so  pleasant  a  companion  and  friend,  who  would  cheer 
up  his  dull  daily  life  with  her  warm  sympathies,  her  quick 
humor,  her  winning  womanly  ways  ? 

He  thought  of  that  letter  he  had  sent  away,  and  cursed 
his  own  folly.  So  long  as  she  was  bound  by  her  promise, 
he  knew  he  could  marry  her  when  he  pleased  ;  but  now  he  had 
voluntarily  released  her.  In  a  couple  of  weeks  she  would 
hold  her  manumission  in  her  hands  ;  the  past  would  no  longer 


FERN  IN  DIE  WELT.  217 

have  any  power  over  her  ;  if  ever  they  met,  they  would  meet 
as  mere  acquaintances.  Every  moment  the  prize  slipping  out 
of  his  grasp  seemed  to  grow  more  valuable  ;  his  vexation  with 
himself  grew  intolerable  ;  he  suddenly  resolved  that  he  would 
make  a  wild  effort  to  get  back  that  fatal  letter. 

He  had  sat  communing  with  himself  for  over  an  hour ;  all 
the  household  was  fast  asleep.  He  would  not  wake  any  one, 
for  fear  of  being  compelled  to  give  explanations  ;  so  he  noise- 
lessly crept  along  the  dark  passages  until  he  got  to  the  door, 
which  he  carefully  opened  and  let  himself  out.  The  night 
was  wonderfully  clear ;  the  constellations  throbbing  and  glit- 
tering overhead ;  the  trees  were  black  against  the  pale  sky. 

He  made  his  way  around  to  the  stables,  and  had  some  sort 
of  notion  that  he  would  try  to  get  at  his  horse,  until  it  occur- 
red to  him  that  some  suddenly  awakened  servant  or  master 
would  probably  send  a  bullet  whizzing  at  him.  So  he  aban- 
doned that  enterprise  and  set  off  to  walk,  as  quickly  as  he 
could,  down  the  slopes  of  the  mountain,  with  the  stars  still 
shining  over  his  head,  the  air  sweet  with  powerful  scents, 
the  leaves  of  the  bushes  hanging  silently  in  the  semi-dark- 
ness. 

How  long  he  walked  he  did  not  know ;  he  was  not  aware 
that,  when  he  reached  the  sleeping  town,  a  pale  gray  was 
lightening  the  eastern  skies.  He  went  to  the  house  of  the 
post  master,  and  hurriedly  aroused  him.  Mr.  Keith  began  to 
think  that  the  ordinarily  sedate  Mr.  Roscorla  had  gone  mad. 

"  But  I  must  have  the  letter,"  he  said.  "  Come  now,  Keith, 
you  can  give  it  me  back  if  you  like.  Of  course,  I  know  it  is 
very  wrong ;  but  you'll  do  it  to  oblige  a  friend — " 

"My  dear  sir,"  said  the  postmaster,  who  could  not  get 
time  for  explanation,  "  the  mails  were  made  up  last  night — " 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  but  you  can  open  the  English  bag." 

"  They  were  sent  on  board  last  night." 

"  Then  the  packet  is  still  in  the  harbor ;  you  might  come 
down  with  me — " 

"  She  sails  at  daybreak — " 

"  It  is  not  daybreak  yet,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  looking  up. 

Then  he  saw  how  the  gray  dawn  had  come  over  the  skies, 
banishing  the  stars,  and  he  became  aware  of  the  wan  light 
shining  around  him.  With  the  new  day  his  life  was  altered  ; 
he  would  no  more  be  as  he  had  been ;  the  chief  aim  and  pur- 
pose of  his  existence  had  been  changed. 

Walking  heedlessly  back,  he  came  to  a  point  from  which 
he  had  a  distant  view  of  the  harbor  and  the  sea  beyond.  Far 
away  out  on  the  dull  gray  plain  was  a  steamer  slowly  making 


2i8  THREE  FEATHERS. 

her  way  towards  the  east.  Was  that  the  packet  bound  for 
England,  carrying  to  Wenna  Rosewarne  the  message  that  she 
was  free  ? 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

"  BLUE  IS  THE  SWEETEST." 

The  following  correspondence  may  now,  without  any  great 
breach  of  confidence,  be  published  : 

"  Eglosilyan,  Monday  morning. 
"  Dear  Mr.  Trelyon, — 

"  Do  you  know  what  Mr.  Roscorla  says  in  the  letter  Wenna 
has  just  received  ?  Why,  that  you  could  not  get  up  that  ring 
by  dredging,  but  that  you  must  have  bought  the  ring  at  Plym- 
outh. Just  think  of  the  wicked  old  wretch  fancying  such 
things ;  as  if  you  would  give  a  ring  of  emeralds  to  any  one ! 
Tell  me  that  this  is  a  story,  that  I  may  bid  Wenna  contradict 
him  at  once.  I  have  got  no  patience  with  a  man  who  is  given 
over  to  such  mean  suspicions.        Yours  faithfully, 


"  Dear  Mabyn, — 


Mabyn  Rosewarne." 
"  London,  Tuesday  night. 


" 1  am  sorry  to  say  Mr.  Roscorla  is  right.  It  was  a  foolish 
trick — I  did  not  think  it  would  be  successful,  for  my  hitting 
the  size  of  her  finger  was  rather  a  stroke  of  luck ;  but  I  thought 
it  would  amuse  her  if  she  did  find  it  out  after  an  hour  or  two. 
I  was  afraid  to  tell  her  afterwards,  for  she  would  think  it  im 
pertinent.  What's  to  be  done  ?  Is  she  angry  about  it  ? 
"  Yours  sincerely, 

"  Harry  Trelyon." 

"Eglosilyan. 
"  Dear  Mr.  Trelyon, — 

"  How  could  you  do  such  a  thing  !  Why,  to  give  Wenna, 
of  all  people  in  the  world,  an  emerald  ring,  just  after  I  had 
got  Mr.  Roscorla  to  give  her  one,  for  bad  luck  to  himself ! 
Why,  how  could  you  do  it !  I  don't  know  what  to  say  about 
it — unless  you  demand  it  back,  and  send  her  one  with  sapphires 
if i  it  at  once.  Yours, 

"  M.R. 

"  P.  S. — As  quick  as  ever  you  can.1* 


"BLUE  IS  THE  SWEETEST:'  219 

"  London,  Friday  morning. 

"  Dear  Mabyn, — 

"Why,  you  know  she  wouldn't  take  a  sapphire  ring  or  any 
other  from  me.  Yours  faithfully, 

"  H.  Trelyon." 
"  My  dear  Mr.  Trelyon, — 

"  Pray  don't  lose  any  time  in  writing;  but  send  me  at  once 
a  sapphire  ring  for  Wenna.  You  have  hit  the  size  once,  and 
you  can  do  it  again ;  but,  in  any  case,  I  have  marked  the 
size  on  this  bit  of  thread,  and  the  jeweller  will  understand. 
And  please,  dear  Mr.  Trelyon,  don't  get  a  very  expensive 
one,  but  a  plain,  good  one,  just  like  what  a  poor  person  like 
me  would  buy  for  a  present  if  I  wanted  to.  And  post  it  at 
once,  please — this  is  very  important. 

"  Yours  most  sincerely, 

"  Mabyn  Rosewarne." 

In  consequence  of  this  correspondence,  Mabyn,  one  morn- 
ing, proceeded  to  seek  out  her  sister,  whom  she  found  busy 
with  the  accounts  of  the  Sewing  Club,  which  was  now  in  a 
flourishing  condition.     Mabyn  seemed  a  little  shy. 

"  Oh,  Wenna,"  she  said,  "  I  have  something  to  tell  you. 
You  know  I  wrote  to  ask  Mr.  Trelyon  about  the  ring.  Well, 
he's  very,  very  sorry — oh,  you  don't  know  how  sorry  he  is, 
Wenna ! — but  it's  quite  true.  He  thought  he  would  please 
you  by  getting  the  ring,  and  that  you  would  make  a  joke  of  it 
when  you  found  it  out ;  and  then  he  was  afraid  to  speak  of  it 
afterwards — " 

Wenna  had  quietly  slipped  the  ring  off  her  finger.  She 
betrayed  no  emotion  at  the  mention  of  Mr.  Trelyon's  name. 
Her  face  was  a  trifle  red,  that  was  all. 

"  It  was  a  stupid  thing  to  do,"  she  said,  "  but  I  suppose  he 
meant  no  harm.     Will  you  send  him  back  the  ring  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  eagerly.     "  Give  me  the  ring,  Wenna." 

She  carefully  wrapped  it  up  in  a  piece  of  paper,  and  put  it 
in  her  pocket.  Any  one  who  knew  her  would  have  seen  by 
her  face  that  she  meant  to  give  that  ring  short  shift.  Then 
she  said  timidly — 

"  You  are  not  very  angry,  Wenna  ? " 

"  No.  I  am  sorry  I  should  have  vexed  Mr.  Roscorla  by  my 
carelessness." 

"  Wenna,"  the  younger  sister  continued,  even  more  timidly, 
"  do  you  know  what  I've  heard  about  rings — that  when  you've 
worn  one  for  some  time  on  a  finger,  you  ought  never  to  leave 
it  off  altogether ;  I  think  it  affects  the  circulation — or  some- 
thing of  that  kind.     Now,  if  Mr.  Trelyon  were  to  send  you 


220  THREE  FEATHERS. 

another  ring,  just  to — to  keep  the  place  of  that  one  until  Mr. 
Roscorla  came  back — " 

"  Mabyn,  you  must  be  mad  to  think  of  such  a  thing,"  said 
her  sister,  looking  down. 

"  Oh  yes,"  Mabyn  said,  meekly,  "  I  thought  you  wouldn't 
like  the  notion  of  Mr.  Trelyon  giving  you  a  ring.  And  so, 
dear  Wenna,  I've — I've  got  a  ring  for  you — you  won't  mind 
taking  it  from  me ;  and  if  you  do  wear  it  on  the  engaged  fin- 
ger, why,  that  doesn't  matter,  don't  you  see — " 

She  produced  the  ring  of  dark  blue  stones,  and  herself  put 
it  on  Wenna's  finger. 

"  Oh,  Mabyn,"  Wenna  said,  "  how  could  you  be  so  extrav- 
agant !  And  just  after  you  gave  me  that  ten  shillings  for 
the  Leans." 

"  You  be  quiet,"  said  Mabyn,  briskly,  going  off  with  a  light 
look  on  her  face. 

And  yet  there  was  some  determination  about  her  mouth. 
She  hastily  put  on  her  hat  and  went  out.  She  took  the  path 
by  the  hill-side  over  the  little  harbor ;  and  eventually  she 
reached  the  face  of  Black  Cliff,  at  the  foot  of  which  a  gray- 
green  sea  was  dashing  in  white  masses  of  foam  ;  there  was  no 
living  thing  around  her  but  the  choughs  and  daws,  and  the 
white  sea-gulls  sailing  overhead. 

She  took  out  a  large  sheet  of  brown  paper  and  placed  it 
on  the  ground.  Then  she  sought  out  a  bit  of  rock,  weighing 
about  two  pounds.  Then  she  took  out  the  little  parcel  which 
contained  the  emerald  ring,  tied  it  up  carefully  along  with 
the  stone  in  the  sheet  of  brown  paper ;  finally,  she  rose  up  to 
her  full  height  and  heaved  the  whole  into  the  sea.  A  splash 
down  there,  and  that  was  all. 

She  clapped  her  hands  with  joy. 

"  And  now,  my  precious  emerald  ring,  that's  the  last  of 
you,  I  imagine  !  And  there  isn't  much  chance  of  a  fish  bring- 
ing you  back,  to  make  mischief  with  your  ugly  green  stones  !  " 

Then  she  went  home,  and  wrote  this  note  : 

"Eglosilyan,  Monday. 

"  Dear  Mr.  Trelyon, — 

"I  have  just  thrown  the  emerald  ring  you  gave  Wenna  into 
the  sea,  and  she  wears  the  other  one    now  on  her  engaged 
finger,  but  she  thinks  I  bought  it.     Did  you  ever  hear  of  an 
old-fashioned  rhyme  that  is  this  ? — 

4  Oh,  green's  forsaken, 

And  yellow's  forsworn, 
And  blue's  the  sweetest 
Color  that's  worn  ! ' 

You  can't  tell  what    mischief  that  emerald    ring  might  not 


"BLUE  IS  THE  SWEETEST."  221 

have  done.  But  the  sapphires  that  Wenna  is  wearing  now 
are  perfectly  beautiful ;  and  Wenna  is  not  so  heartbroken 
that  she  isn't  very  proud  of  them.  I  never  saw  such  a  beau- 
tiful ring. 

"  Yours  sincerely, 

"  Mabyn  Rosewarne. 

"  P.  S. — Are  you  never  coming  back  to  Eglosilyan  any 
more  ? " 

So  the  days  went  by,  and  Mabyn  waited,  with  a  secret  hope, 
to  see  what  answer  Mr.  Roscorla  would  send  to  that  letter 
of  confession  and  contrition  Wenna  had  written  to  him  at 
Penzance.  The  letter  had  been  written  as  an  act  of  duty, 
and  posted  too  ;  but  there  was  no  mail  going  out  for  ten  days 
thereafter,  so  that  a  considerable  time  had  to  elapse  before 
the  answer  came. 

During  that  time  Wenna  went  about  her  ordinary  duties, 
just  as  if  there  were  no  hidden  fire  of  pain  consuming  her 
heart ;  there  was  no  word  spoken  by  her  or  to  her  of  all  that 
had  recently  occurred  ;  her  mother  and  sister  were  glad  to  see 
her  so  continuously  busy.  At  first  she  shrank  from  going  up 
to  Trelyon  Hall,  and  would  rather  have  corresponded  with 
Mrs.  Trelyon  about  their  joint  work  of  charity,  but  she  con- 
quered the  feeling,  and  went  and  saw  the  gentle  lady,  who  per- 
ceived nothing  altered  or  strange  in  her  demeanor.  At  last 
the  letter  from  Jamaica  came  ;  and  Mabyn,  having  sent  it  up 
to  her  sister's  room,  waited  for  a  few  minutes,  and  then  follow- 
ed it.  She  was  a  little  afraid,  despite  her  belief  in  the  virtues 
of  the  sapphire  ring. 

When  she  entered  the  room,  she  uttered  a  slight  cry  of 
alarm  and  ran  forward  to  her  sister.  Wenna  was  seated  on 
a  chair  by  the  side  of  the  bed,  but  she  had  thrown  her  arms 
out  on  the  bed,  her  head  was  between  them,  and  she  was 
sobbing  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 

"  Wenna,  what  is  the  matter  ?  what  has  he  said  to  you  ?  " 

Mabyn's  eyes  were  all  afire  now.  Wenna  would  not  an- 
swer.    She  would  not  even  raise  her  head. 

"  Wenna,  I  want  to  see  that  letter." 

"  Oh  no,  no,"  the  girl  moaned.  "  I  deserve  it ;  he  says 
what  is  true  ;  I  want  you  to  leave  me  alone,  Mabyn — you — 
you  can't  do  anything  to  help  this — " 

But  Mabyn  had  by  this  time  perceived  that  her  sister 
held  in  her  hand,  crumpled  up,  the  letter  which  was  the 
cause  of  this  wild  outburst  of  grief.     She  went  forward  and 


222  THREE  FEATHERS. 

firmly  took  it  out  of  the  yielding  fingers  ;  then  she  turned  to 
the  light  and  read  it. 

"  Oh,  if  I  were  a  man  !  "  she  said  ;  and  then  the  very  pas- 
sion of  her  indignation,  finding  no  other  vent,  filled  her  eyes 
with  proud  and  angry  tears.  She  forgot  to  rejoice  that  her 
sister  was  now  free.  She  only  saw  the  cruel  insult  of  those 
lines,  and  the  fashion  in  which  it  had  struck  down  its  vic- 
tim. 

"  Wenna,"  she  said,  hotly,  "  you  ought  to  have  more  spirit ! 
You  don't  mean  to  say  you  care  for  the  opinion  of  a  man 
who  would  write  to  any  girl  like  that !  You  ought  to  be 
precious  glad  that  he  has  shown  himself  in  his  true  colors. 
Why,  he  never  cared  a  bit  for  you — never  ! — or  he  would 
never  turn  at  a  moment's  notice  and  insult  you — " 

"  I  have  deserved  it  all ;  it  is  every  word  of  it  true  ;  he 
could  not  have  written  otherwise  " — that  was  all  that  Wenna 
would  say  between  her  sobs. 

"  Well,"  retorted  Mabyn,  "  after  all  I  am  glad  he  was  an- 
gry. I  did  not  think  he  had  so  much  spirit.  And  if  this  is 
his  opinion  of  you,  I  don't  think  it  is  worth  heeding,  only  I 
hope  he'll  keep  to  it.  Yes,  I  do  !  I  hope  he'll  continue 
to  think  you're  everything  that  is  wicked,  and  remain  out  in 
Jamaica.  Wenna,  you  must  not  lie  and  cry  like  that. 
Come,  get  up,  and  look  at  the  strawberries  that  Mr.  Tre- 
whella  has  sent  you." 

"  Please,  Mabyn,  leave  me  alone,  there's  a  good  girl." 

"  I  shall  be  up  again  in  a  few  minutes,  then ;  I  want  you 
to  drive  me  over  to  St.  Gwennis.  Wenna,  I  must  go  over  to 
St.  Gwennis  before  lunch  ;  and  father  won't  let  me  have  any- 
body to  drive  ;  do  you  hear,  Wenna?" 

Then  she  went  out  and  down  into  the  kitchen,  where  she 
bothered  Jennifer  for  a  few  minutes  until  she  had  got  an 
iron  heated  at  the  fire.  With  this  implement  she  carefully 
smoothed  out  the  crumpled  letter,  and  then  she  as  carefully 
folded  it,  took  it  up-stairs,  and  put  it  safely  away  in  her  own 
desk.     She  had  just  time  to  write  a  few  lines  : 

"  Dear  Mr.  Trelyon, — 

"  Do  you  know  what  news  I  have  got  to  tell  you  ?  Can 
you  guess  ?  The  engagement  between  Mr.  Roscorla  and 
Wenna  is  broke?i  off;  and  I  have  got  in  my  possession  the  let- 
ter in  which  he  sets  her  free.  If  you  knew  how  glad  I  am  ! — 
I  should  like  to  cry  i  Hurrah  !  hurrah ! '  all  through  the 
streets  of  Eglosilyan,  and  I  think  every  one  else  would  do 
cne  same  if  only  they  knew.     Of  course,   she  is  very  much 


THE  EXILE'S  RETURN.  223 

grieved,  for  he  has  been  most  insulting.  I  cannot  tell  you 
the  things  he  has  said ;  you  would  kill  him  if  you  heard 
them.  But  she  will  come  round  very  soon,  I  know ;  and 
then  she  will  have  her  freedom  again,  and  no  more  emerald 
rings,  and  letters  all  filled  with  arguments.  Would  you  like 
to  see  her,  Mr.  Trelyon  ?  But  don't  come  yet — not  for  a 
long  time — she  would  only  get  angry  and  obstinate.  I'll  tell 
you  when  to  come  ;  and  in  the  mean  time,  you  know,  she  is 
still  wearing  your  ring,  so  that  you  need  not  be  afraid. 
How  glad  I  shall  be  to  see  you  again  ! 

"Yours  most  faithfully, 

"  Mabyn  Rosewarne." 

She  went  down-stairs  quickly,  and  put  this  letter  in  the 
letter  box.  There  was  an  air  of  triumph  on  her  face.  She 
had  worked  for  this  result — aided  by  the  mysterious  powers 
of  fate,  whom  she  had  conjured  to  serve  her — and  now  the 
welcome  end  of  her  labors  had  arrived.  She  bade  the 
hostler  get  out  the  dog-cart,  as  if  she  were  the  Queen  of 
Sheba  going  to  visit  Solomon.  She  went  marching  up  to 
her  sister's  room,  announcing  her  approach  with  a  more  than 
ordinarily  accurate  rendering  of  "  Oh,  the  men  of  merry, 
merry  England  ! "  so  that  a  stranger  might  have  fancied 
that  he  heard  the  very  voice  of  Harry  Trelyon,  with  all  its 
unmelodious  vigor,  ringing  along  the  passage. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

THE    EXILE'S    RETURN. 

Perhaps  you  have  been  away  in  distant  parts  of  the  earth, 
each  day  crowded  with  new  experiences  and  slowly  obscur- 
ing the  clear  pictures  of  England  with  which  you  left ; 
perhaps  you  have  only  been  hidden  away  in  London,  amid  its 
ceaseless  noise,  its  strange  faces,  its  monotonous  recurrence 
of  duties ;  let  us  say,  in  any  case,  that  you  are  returning 
home  for  a  space  to  the  quiet  of  northern  Cornwall. 

You  look  out  of  the  high  window  of  a  Plymouth  hotel 
early  in  the  morning;  there  is  proirfise  of  a  beautiful 
autumn  day.  A  ring  of  pink  mist  lies  around  the  horizon  ; 
overhead  the  sky  is  clear  and  blue  ;  the  white  sickle  of  the 
moon  still  lingers  visible.  The  new  warmth  of  the  day  be- 
gins to  melt  the  hoar-frost  in  the  meadows,  and  you  know 


224  THREE  FEATHERS. 

that  out  beyond  the  town  the  sun  is  shining  brilliantly  on  the 
wet  grass,  with  the  brown  cattle  gleaming  red  in  the  light. 

You  leave  the  great  world  behind,  with  all  its  bustle, 
crowds,  and  express  engines,  when  you  get  into  the  quiet  lit- 
tle train  that  takes  you  leisurely  up  to  Launceston,  through 
woods,  by  the  sides  of  rivers,  over  great  valleys.  There  is  a 
sense  of  repose  about  this  railway  journey.  The  train  stops 
at  any  number  of  small  stations — apparently  to  let  the  guard 
have  a  chat  with  the  station-master — and  then  jogs  on  in  a 
quiet,  contented  fashion.  And  on  such  an  autumn  day  as 
this,  that  is  a  beautiful,  still,  rich-colored,  and  English-look- 
ing country  through  which  it  passes.  Here  is  a  deep  valley, 
all  glittering  with  the  dew  and  the  sunlight.  Down  in  the 
hollow  a  farm-yard  is  half  hidden  behind  the  yellowing  elms ; 
a  boy  is  driving  a  flock  of  white  geese  along  the  twisting 
road ;  the  hedges  are  red  with  the  withering  briers.  Up 
here,  along  the  hill-sides,  the  woods  of  scrub-oak  are  glowing 
with  every  imaginable  hue  of  gold,  crimson,  and  bronze, 
except  where  a  few  dark  firs  appear,  or  where  a  tuft  of 
broom,  pure  and  bright  in  its  green,  stands  out  among  the 
faded  brackens.  The  gorse  is  profusely  in  bloom — it  always 
is  in  Cornwall.  Still  further  over  there  are  sheep  visible  on 
the  uplands ;  beyond  these  again  the  bleak  brown  moors  rise 
into  peaks  of  hills  ;  overhead  the  silent  blue,  and  all  around 
the  sweet,  fresh  country  air. 

With  a  sharp  whistle  the  small  train  darts  into  an  opening 
in  the  hills ;  here  we  are  in  the  twilight  of  a  great  wood. 
The  tall  trees  are  becoming  bare ;  the  ground  is  red  with  the 
fallen  leaves  ;  through  the  branches  the  blue-winged  jay  flies, 
screaming  harshly  ;  you  can  smell  the  damp  and  resinous 
odors  of  the  ferns.  Out  again  we  get  into  the  sunlight ;  and 
lo  !  a  rushing,  brawling,  narrow  stream,  its  clear  flood  sway- 
ing this  way  and  that  by  the  big  stones  ;  a  wall  of  rock  over- 
head crowned  by  glowing  furze  ;  a  herd  of  red  cattle  sent 
scampering  through  the  bright-green  grass.  Now  we  get 
slowly  into  a  small  white  station,  and  catch  a  glimpse  of  a 
tiny  town  over  in  the  valley  ;  again  we  go  on  by  wood  and 
valley,  by  rocks  and  streams  and  farms.  It  is  a  pleasant 
drive  on  such  a  morning. 

In  one  of  the  carriages  in  this  train  Master  Harry  Trelyon 
and  his  grandmother  were  seated.  How  he  had  ever  persuaded 
her  to  go  with  him  to  Cornwall  by  train  was  mysterious 
enough  ;  for  the  old  lady  thoroughly  hated  all  such  modern 
devices.  It  was  her  custom  to  go  travelling  all  over  the 
country   with  a  big,    old-fashioned   phaeton    and   a   pair  of 


THE  EXILE  'S  RE  TuRM  2  2  5 

horses ;  and  her  chief  amusement  during  these  long  excur- 
sions was  driving  up  to  any  big  house  she  took  a  fancy  to,  in 
order  to  see  if  there  were  a  chance  of  its  being  let  to  her. 
The  faithful  old  servant  who  attended  her,  and  who  was 
about  as  old  as  the  coachman,  had  a  great  respect  for  his 
mistress  ;  but  sometimes  he  swore — inaudibly — when  she 
ordered  him  to  make  the  usual  inquiry  at  the  front-door  of 
some  noble  lord's  country  residence,  which  he  would  as  soon 
have  thought  of  letting  as  of  forfeiting  his  seat  in  the  House 
of  Peers  or  his  hopes  of  heaven.  But  the  carriage  and 
horses  were  coming  down  all  the  same  to  Eglosilyan,  to  take 
her  back  again. 

"  Harry,"  she  was  saying  at  this  moment,  "  the  longer  I 
look  at  you,  the  more  positive  I  am  that  you  are  ill.  I  don't 
like  your  color;  you  are  thin  and  careworn  and  anxious. 
What  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  " 

"  Going  to  school  again  at  twenty-one  is  hard  work,  grand- 
mother," he  said.  "  Don't  you  try  it.  But  I  don't  think  I'm 
particularly  ill ;  few  folks  can  keep  a  complexion  like  yours, 
grandmother." 

"Yes,"  said  the  old  lady,  rather  pleased,  "many's  the  time 
they  said  that  about  me,  that  there  wasn't  much  to  complain 
of  in  my  looks;  and  that's  what  a  girl  thinks  of  then,  and 
sweethearts  and  balls,  and  all  the  other  men  looking  savage 
when  she's  dancing  with  any  one  of  them.  Well,  well, 
Harry ;  and  what  is  all  this  about  you  and  the  young  lady 
your  mother  has  made  such  a  pet  of  ?  Oh  yes,  I  have  my 
suspicions ;  and  she's  engaged  to  another  man,  isn't  she  ? 
Your  grandfather  would  have  fought  him,  I'll  be  bound  ;  but 
we  live  in  a  peaceable  way  now — well,  well,  no  matter ;  but 
hasn't  that  got  something  to  do  with  your  glum  looks, 
Harry  ? " 

"  I'll  tell  you,  grandmother,  I  have  been  hard  at  work  in 
London.  You  can't  look  very  brilliant  after  a  few  months 
in  London." 

"  And  what  keeps  you  in  London  at  this  time  of  the  year  ?" 
said  this  plain-spoken  old  lady.  "  Your  fancy  about  getting 
into  the  army  ?  Nonsense,  man  ;  don't  tell  me  such  a  tale 
as  that.  There's  a  woman  in  the  case  ;  a  Trelyon  never  puts 
himself  so  much  about  from  any  other  cause.  To  stop  in 
town  at  this  time  of  the  year !  Why,  your  grandfather  and 
your  father,  too,  would  have  laughed  to  hear  of  it.  I  haven't 
had  a  brace  of  birds  or  a  pheasant  sent  me  since  last  autumn 
— not  one.  Come,  sir,  be  frank  with  me.  I'm  an  old  woman, 
but  I  can  hold  my  tongue.'*' 
*5 


2?6  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

"There's  nothing  to  tell,  grandmother,"  he  said.  "You 
just  about  hit  it  in  that  guess  of  yours — I  suppose  Juliott  told 
you.  Well,  the  girl  is  engaged  to  another  man  \  and  what 
more  is  to  be  said  ?  " 

"  The  man's  in  Jamaica  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Why  are  you  going  down  to-day  ?  " 

"Only  for  a  brief  visit :  I've  been  a  long  time  away." 

The  old  lady  sat  silent  for  some  time.  She  had  heard  of 
the  whole  affair  before  ;  but  she  wished  to  have  the  rumor 
confirmed.  And  at  first  she  was  sorely  troubled  that  her 
grandson  should  contemplate  marrying  an  innkeeper's  daugh- 
ter, however  intelligent,  amiable,  and  well-educated  the  young 
lady  might  be ;  but  she  knew  the  Trelyons  pretty  well,  and 
knew  that,  if  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  it,  argument  and 
remonstrance  would  be  useless.  Moreover,  she  had  a  great 
affection  for  this  young  man,  and  was  strongly  disposed  to 
sympathize  with  any  wish  of  his.  She  grew  in  time  to  have 
a  great  interest  in  Miss  Wenna  Rosewarne  ;  at  this  moment 
the  chief  object  of  her  visit  was  to  make  her  acquaintance. 
She  grew  to  pity  young  Trelyon  in'his  disappointment,  and  was 
inclined  to  believe  that  the  person  in  Jamaica  was  something 
of  a  public  enemy.  The  fact  was,  her  mere  liking  for  her 
grandson  would  have  converted  her  to  a  sympathy  with  the 
wildest  project  he  could  have  formed. 

"Dear,  dear,"  she  said,  "what  awkward  things  engage- 
ments are  when  they  stand  in  your  way.  Shall  I  tell  you  the 
truth  ?  I  was  just  about  as  good  as  engaged  to  John  Chol- 
mondeley  when  I  gave  myself  up  to  your  grandfather — but 
there,  when  a  girl's  heart  pulls  her  one  way,  and  her  promise 
pull's  her  another  way,  she  needs  to  be  a  very  firm-minded 
young  woman,  if  she  means  to  hold  fast.  John  Cholmondeley 
was  as  good-hearted  a  young  fellow  as  ever  lived — yes,  I  will 
say  that  for  him  ;  and  I  was  mightily  sorry  for  him  ;  but — but 
you  see  that's  how  things  come  about.  Dear,  dear,  that 
evening  at  Bath — I  remember  it  as  well  as  if  it  was  yester- 
day— and  it  was  only  two  months  after  I  had  run  away  with  your 
grandfather.  Yes,  there  was  a  ball  that  night ;  and  we  had 
kept  very  quiet,  you  know,  after  coining  back  ;  but  this  time 
your  grandfather  had  set  his  heart  on  taking  me  out  before 
everybody,  and,  you  know,  he  had  to  have  his  way.  As  sure 
as  I  live,  Harry,  the  first  man  I  saw  was  John  Cholmondeley, 
just  as  white  as  a  ghost — they  said  he  had  been  drinking  hard 
and  gambling  pretty  nearly  the  whole  of  these  two  months. 
He  wouldn't  come  near  me.     He  wouldn't  take  the  least  no- 


THE  EXILE'S  RETURN.  227 

tice  of  me.  The  whole  night  he  pretended  to  be  vastly  gay 
and  merry ;  he  danced  with  everybody  ;  but  his  eyes  never 
came  near  me.  Well,  you  know  what  a  girl  is — that  vexed 
me  a  little  bit ;  for  there  never  was  a  man  such  a  slave  to  a 
woman  as  he  was  to  me — dear,  dear,  the  way  my  father  used 
to  laugh  at  him,  until  he  got  wild  with  anger.  Well,  I  went 
up  to  him  at  last,  when  he  was  by  himself,  and  I  said  to  him, 
just  in  a  careless  way,  you  know,  '  John,  aren't  you  going  to 
dance  with  me  to-night?'  Well,  do  you  know,  his  face  got 
quite  white  again  ;  and  he  said — I  remember  the  very  words,  as 
cold  as  ice — '  Madam,'  say  she,  '  I  am  glad  to  find  that  your 
hurried  trip  to  Scotland  has  impaired  neither  your  good 
looks  nor  your  self-command.'  Wasn't  it  cruel  of  him  ? — but 
then,  poor  fellow,  he  had  been  badly  used,  I  admit  that.  Poor 
fellow,  he  never  did  marry  ;  and  I  don't  believe  he  ever  for- 
got me  to  his  dying  day.  Many  a  time  I'd  like  to  have  told 
him  all  about  it ;  and  how  there  was  no  use  in  my  marrying 
him  if  I  liked  another  man  better ;  but  though  we  met  some- 
times, especially  when  he  came  down  about  the  Reform  Bill 
time — and  I  do  believe  I  made  a  red-hot  Radical  of  him — he 
was  always  very  proud,  and  I  hadn't  the  heart  to  go  back  on 
the  old  story.  But  I'll  tell  you  what  your  grandfather  did 
for  him — he  got  him  returned  at  the  very  next  election,  and  he 
on  the  other  side  too ;  and  after  a  bit  a  man  begins  to  think 
more  about  getting  a  seat  in  Parliament  than  about  courting 
an  empty-headed  girl.  I  have  met  this  Mr.  Roscorla,  haven't 
I?" 

"  Of  course  you  have." 

"  A  good-looking  man  rather,  with  a  fresh  complexion  and 
gray  hair  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by  good  looks,"  said  Trel- 
yon,  shortly.  "  I  shouldn't  think  people  would  call  him  an 
Adonis.     But  there's  no  accounting  for  tastes." 

"  Perhaps  I  may  have  been  mistaken,"  the  old  lady  said  ; 
"  but  there  was  a  gentleman  at  Plymouth  Station  who  seemed 
to  be  something  like  what  I  can  recall  of  Mr.  Roscorla — you 
didn't  see  him,  I  suppose." 

"  At  Plymouth  Station,  grandmother  ?  "  the  young  man 
said,  becoming  rather  uneasy. 

"  Yes.  He  got  into  the  train  just  as  we  came  up.  A 
neatly  dressed  man,  gray  hair,  and  a  healthy-looking  face — I 
must  have  seen  him  somewhere  about  here  before." 

"  Roscorla  is  in  Jamaica,"  said  Trelyon,  positively. 

Just  at  this  moment  the  train  slowed  into  Launceston  Sta- 
tion, and  the  people  began  to  get  out  on  the  platform. 


228  THREE  FEATHERS. 

"That  is  the  man  I  mean,"  said  the  old  lady. 

Trelyon  turned  and  stared.  There,  sure  enough,  was  Mr. 
Roscorla,  looking  not  one  whit  different  from  the  precise, 
elderly,  fresh-colored  gentleman  who  had  left  Cornwall  some 
seven  months  before. 

"  Good  Lord,  Harry  !  "  said  the  old  lady,  nervously  looking 
at  her  grandson's  face,  "  don't  have  a  fight  here  ! " 

The  next  second  Mr.  Rosccrla  wheeled  around,  anxious 
about  some  luggage,  and  now  it  was  his  turn  to  stare  in  aston- 
ishment and  anger — anger,  because  he  had  been  told  that 
Harry  Trelyon  never  came  near  Cornwall,  and  his  first  sud- 
den suspicion  was  that  he  had  been  deceived.  All  this  had 
happened  in  a  minute.  Trelyon  was  the  first  to  regain  his 
self-command.  He  walked  deliberately  forward,  held  out  his 
hand,  and  said — 

"  Hillo,  Roscorla  ;  back  in  England  again  ?  I  didn't  know 
you  were  coming." 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  with  his  face  grown  just  a  trifle 
grayer, — "  no,  I  suppose  not." 

In  point  of  fact  he  had  not  informed  anyone  of  his  coming. 
He  had  prepared  a  little  surprise.  The  chief  motive  of  his 
return  was  to  get  Wenna  to  cancel  forever  that  unlucky  letter 
of  release  he  had  sent  her,  which  he  had  done  more  or  less 
successfully  in  subsequent  correspondence ;  but  he  had  also 
hoped  to  introduce  a  little  romanticism  into  his  meeting  with 
her.  He  would  enter  Eglosilyan  on  foot.  He  would  wander 
clown  to  the  rocks  at  the  mouth  of  the  harbor,  on  the  chance 
of  finding  Wenna  there.  Might  he  not  hear  her  humming  to 
herself,  as  she  sat  and  sewed,  some  snatch  of  "  Your  Polly 
has  never  been  false,  she  declares  " — or  was  that  the  very 
last  ballad  in  the  world  she  would  now  think  of  singing  ? 
Then  the  delight  of  regarding  again  the  placid,  bright  face 
and  earnest  eyes,  of  securing  once  more  a  perfect  understand- 
ing between  them  and  their  glad  return  to  the  inn. 

All  this  had  been  spoiled  by  the  appearance  of  this  young 
man  :  he  loved  him  none  the  more  for  that. 

"  I  suppose  you  haven't  got  a  trap  waiting  for  you  ?"  said 
Trelyon,  with  cold  politeness.  "  I  can  drive  you  over,  if  you 
like." 

He  could  do  no  less  than  make  the  offer ;  the  other  had 
no  alternative  but  to  accept.  Old  Mrs.  Trelyon  heard  this 
compact  made  with  considerable  dread. 

Indeed,  it  was  a  dismal  drive  over  to  Eglosilyan,  bright  as 
the  forenoon  was.  The  old  lady  did  her  best  to  be  courteous 
to  Mr.   Roscorla  and  cheerful  with  her  grandson  ;  but  she 


THE  EXILE'S  RETURN.  229 

was  oppressed  by  the  belief  that  it  was  only  her  presence 
that  had  so  far  restrained  the  two  men  from  giving  vent  to 
the  rage  and  jealousy  that  filled  their  hearts.  The  conversa- 
tion kept  up  was  singular. 

"  Are  you  going  to  remain  in  England  long,   Roscorla  ?  " 
said  the  younger  of  the  two  men,  making  an  unnecessary 
cut  at  one  of  the  two  horses  he  was  driving. 
"  Don't  know  yet.     Perhaps  I  may." 

"  Because,"  said  Trelyon,  with  angry  impertinence,  "  I 
suppose  if  you  do  you'll  have  to  look  around  for  a  house- 
keeper." 

The  insinuation  was  felt;  and  Roscorla's  eyes  looked 
anything  but  pleasant  as  he  answered — 

"You  forget  I've  got  Mrs.  Cornish  to  look  after  my 
house." 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Cornish  is  not  much  of  a  companion  for  you." 
"Men  seldom  want  to  make  companions  of  their  house- 
keepers," was  the  retort,  uttered  rather  hotly. 

"  But  sometimes  they  wish  to  have  the  two  offices  com- 
bined, for  economy's  sake." 

At  this  juncture  Mrs.  Trelyon  struck  in,  somewhat  wildly, 
with  a  remark  about  an  old  ruined  house,  which  seemed  to 
have  had  at  one  time  a  private  still  inside  :  the  danger  was 
staved  off  for  the  moment. 

"  Harry,"  she  said,  "  mind  what  you  are  about ;  the  horses 
seem  very  fresh." 

"Yes,  they  like  a  good  run;  I  suspect  they've  had  pre- 
cious little  to  do  since  I  left  Cornwall." 

Did  she  fear  that,  the  young  man  was  determined  to  throw 
them  into  a  ditch  or  down  a  precipice,  with  the  wild  desire 
of  killing  his  rival  at  any  cost?  If  she  had  known  the 
whole  state  of  affairs  between  them — the  story  of  the  emerald 
ring,  for  example — she  would  have  understood  at  least  the 
difficulty  experienced  by  these  two  men  in  remaining  de- 
cently civil  towards  each  other. 

So  they  passed  over  the  high  and  wide  moors,  until  far 
ahead  they  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  blue  plain  of  the  sea. 
Mr.  Roscorla  relapsed  into  silence ;  he  was  becoming  a 
trifle  nervous.  He  was  probably  so  occupied  with  anticipa- 
tions of  hij  meeting  with  Wenna  that  he  failed  to  notice  the 
objects  around  him — and  one  of  these,  now  become  visible, 
was  a  very  handsome  young  lady,  who  was  coming  smartly 
along  a  wooded  lane,  carrying  a  basket  of  bright-colored 
flowers. 

"  Why,  here's  Mabyn  Rosewarne.     I  must  wait  for  her." 


230  THREE  FEATHERS. 

Mabyn  had  seen  at  a  distance  Mrs.  Trelyon's  grey  horses; 
she  guessed  that  the  young  master  had  come  back,  and  that 
he  had  brought  some  strangers  with  him.  She  did  not  like 
to  be  stared  at  by  strangers.  She  came  along  the  path, 
with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground ;  she  thought  it  imperti- 
nent of  Harry  Trelyon  to  wait  to  speak  to  her. 

"  Oh,  Mabyn,"  he  cried,  "  you  must  let  me  drive  you 
home !  And  let  me  introduce  you  to  my  grandmother. 
There  is  some  one  else  whom  you  know." 

The  young  lady  bowed  to  Mrs.  Trelyon  ;  then  she  stared, 
and  changed  color  somewhat,  when  she  saw  Mr.  Roscorla  ; 
then  she  was  helped  up  into  a  seat. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Trelyon  ?  "  she  said.  "  I  am  very 
glad  to  see  you  have  come  back.  How  do  you  do,  Mr. 
Roscorla  ? " 

She  shook  hands  with  them  both,  but  not  quite  in  the 
same  fashion. 

"  And  you  have  sent  no  message  that  you  were  coming  ?  " 
she  said,  looking  her  companion  straight  in  the  face. 

"  No — no,  I  did  not,"  he  said,  angry  and  embarrassed  by 
the  open  enmity  of  the  girl.  "  I  thought  I  should  surprise 
you  all—" 

"You  have  surprised  me,  anyway,"  said  Mabyn,  "for 
how  can  you  be  so  thoughtless?  Wenna  has  been  very  ill — 
I  tell  you,  she  has  been  very  ill  indeed,  though  she  has  said 
little  about  it,  and  the  least  thing  upsets  her.  How  can  you 
think  of  frightening  her  so  ?  Do  you  know  what  you  are 
doing  ?  I  wish  you  would  go  away  back  to  Launceston,  or 
London,  and  write  her  a  note  there,  if  you  are  coming, 
instead  of  trying  to  frighten  her  ! " 

This  was  the  language,  it  appeared  to  Mr.  Roscorla,  of  a 
virago;  only  viragos  do  not  ordinarily  have  tears  in  their 
eyes,  as  was  the  case  with  Mabyn,  when  she  finished  her 
indignant  appeal. 

"  Mr.  Trelyon,  do  you  think  it  is  fair  to  go  and  frighten 
Wenna  so  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  It  is  none  of  my  business,"  Trelyon  answered,  with  an  air 
as  if  he  had  said  to  his  rival,  "  Yes,  go  and  kill  the  girl ! 
You  are  a  nice  sort  of  a  gentleman,  to  come  down  from 
London  to  kill  the  girl !  " 

"This  is  absurd,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  contemptuously,  for 
he  was  stung  into  reprisal  by  the  persecution  of  these  two ; 
"a  girl  isn't  so  easily  frightened  out  of  her  wits.  Why,  she 
must  have  known  that  my  coming  home  was  at  any  time 
probable." 


THE  EXILE  'S  RE  TURN.  23 1 

"  I  have  no  doubt  she  feared  that  it  was,"  said  Mabyn, 
partly  to  herself ;  for  once  she  was  afraid  of  speaking  out. 

Presently,  however,  a  brighter  light  came  over  the  girl's 
face. 

"  Why,  I  quite  forgot,"  she  said,  addressing  Harry  Trel- 
yon;  "I  quite  forgot  that  Wenna  was  just  going  up  to 
Trelyon  Hall  when  I  left.  Of  course,  she  will  be  up  there. 
You  will  be  able  to  tell  her  that  Mr.  Roscorla  has  arrived, 
won't  you  ? " 

The  malice  of  this  suggestion  was  so  apparent  that  the 
young  gentleman  in  front  could  not  help  grinning  at  it ;  fort- 
unately, his  face  could  not  be  seen  by  his  rival.  What  he 
thought  of  the  whole  arrangement  can  only  be  imagined. 

And  so,  as  it  happened,  Mr.  Roscorla  and  his  friend  Mabyn 
were  dropped  at  the  inn;  while  Harry  Trelyon  drove  his 
grandmother  up  and  on  to  the  Hall. 

"  Well,  Harry,"  the  old  lady  said,  "  I  am  glad  to  be  able  to 
breathe  at  last ;  I  thought  you  two  were  going  to  kill  each 
other." 

"  There  is  no  fear  of  that,"  the  young  man  said  ;  "that  is 
not  the  way  in  which  this  affair  has  to  be  settled.  It  is  en- 
tirely a  matter  for  her  decision — and  look  how  everything  is 
in  his  favor.  I  am  not  even  allowed  to  say  a  word  to  her ; 
and  even  if  I  could,  he  is  a  deal  cleverer  than  me  in  argument. 
He  would  argue  my  head  off  in  half  an  hour." 

"But  you  don't  turn  a  girl's  heart  around  by  argument, 
Harry.  When  a  girl  has  to  choose  between  a  young  lover 
and  an  elderly  one,  it  isn't  always  good-sense  that  directs  her 
choice.     Is  fyliss  Wenna  Rosewarne  at  all  like  her  sister  ?  " 

"She's  not  such  a  tomboy,"  he  said  ;  "but  she  is  quite  as 
straightforward,  and  proud,  and  quick  to  tell  you  what  is  the 
'  right  thing  to  do.  There's  no  sort  of  shamming  tolerated  by 
these  two  girls.  But  then  Wenna  is  gentle  and  quieter,  and 
more  soft  and  lovable  than  Mabyn — in  my  fancy,  you  know  ; 
and  she  is  more  humorous  and  clever,  so  that  she  never  gets 
into  those  school-girl  rages.  But  it  is  really  a  shame  to  com- 
pare them  like  that ;  and,  indeed,  if  any  one  said  die  least 
thing  against  one  of  these  girls,  the  other  would  precious  soon 
make  him  regret  the  day  he  was  born.  You  don't  catch  me 
doing  that  with  either  of  them  ;  I've  had  a  warning  already, 
when  I  hinted  that  Mabyn  might  probably  manage  to  keep 
her  husband  in  good  order.  And  so  she  would,  I  believe,  if 
the  husband  were  not  of  the  right  sort;  but  when  she  is 
really  fond  of  anybody,  she  becomes  their  slave  out-and-out. 
There  is  nothing  she  wouldn't  do  for   her  sister;  and  her 


252  THREE  FEATHERS. 

sister  thinks  there's  nobody  in  the  world  like  Mabyn.  So  you 
see — " 

He  stopped  in  the  middle  of  this  sentence. 

"Grandmother/'  he  said,  almost  in  a  whisper,  "here  she  is 
coming  along  the  road." 

"  Miss  Rosewarne  ?  " 

"  Yes  :  shall  I  introduce  you  ?  " 

"  If  you  like." 

Wenna  was  coming  down  the  steep  road,  between  the  high 
hedges,  with  a  small  girl  on  each  side  of  her,  whom  she  was 
leading  by  the  hand.  She  was  gayly  talking  to  them ;  you 
could  hear  the  children  laughing  at  what  she  said.  Old  Mrs. 
Trelyon  came  to  the  conclusion  that  this  merry  young  lady, 
with  the  light  and  free  step,  the  careless  talk,  and  fresh  color 
in  her  face,  was  certainly  not  dying  of  any  love-affair. 

"  Take  the  reins,  grandmother,  for  a  minute." 

He  had  leaped  down  into  the  road,  and  was  standing  before 
her,  almost  ere  she  had  time  to  recognize  him.  For  a  moment 
a  quick  gleam  of  gladness  shone  on  her  face  ;  then,  almost 
instinctively,  she  seemed  to  shrink  from  him,  and  she  was  re- 
served, distant,  and  formal. 

He  introduced  her  to  the  old  lady,  who  said  something 
nice  to  her  about  her  sister.  The  young  man  was  looking 
wistfully  at  her,  troubled  at  heart  that  she  treated  him  so 
coldly. 

"  I  have  got  to  break  some  news  to  you,"  he  said  ;  "  perhaps 
you  will  consider  it  good  news." 

She  looked  up  quickly. 

"  Nothing  has  happened  to  anybody — only  some  one  has 
arrived.     Mr.  Roscorla  is  at  the  inn." 

She  did  not  flinch.  He  was  vexed  with  her  that  she  showed 
no  sign  of  fear  or  dislike.  On  the  contrary,  she  quickly  said 
that  she  must  then  go  down  to  the  inn  ;  and  she  bade  them 
both  good-bye,  in  a  placid  and  ordinary  way ;  while  he  drove 
off,  with  dark  thoughts  crowding  into  his  imagination  of  what 
might  happen  down  at  the  inn  during  the  next  few  days.  He 
was  angry  with  her,  he  scarcely  knew  why. 

Meanwhile  Wenna,  apparently  quite  calm,  went  on  down 
the  road ;  but  there  was  uo  more  laughing  in  her  voice,  no 
more  light  in  her  face. 

"  Miss  Wenna,"  said  the  smaller  of  the  two  children,  who 
could  not  understand  this  change,  and  who  looked  up  with  big, 
wondering  eyes,  "  why  does  oo  tremble  so  ? " 


SOME  OLD  FRIENDS.  233 

CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

SOME  OLD  FRIENDS. 

When  they  heard  that  Wenna  was  coming  down  the  road 
they  left  Mr.  Roscorla  alone  :  lovers  like  to  have  their  meet- 
ings and  partings  unobserved. 

She  went  into  the  room,  pale  and  yet  firm — there  was  even 
a  sense  of  gladness  in  her  heart  that  now  she  must  know  the 
worst.  What  would  he  say?  How  would  he  receive  her? 
She  knew  that  she  was  at  his  mercy. 

Well,  Mr.  Roscorla  at  this  moment  was  angry  enough,  for 
he  had  been  deceived  and  trifled  with  in  his  absence,  but  he 
was  also  anxious,  and  his  anxiety  caused  him  to  conceal  his 
anger.  He  came  forward  to  her  with  quite  a  pleasant  look 
on  his  face  ;  he  kissed  her  and  said — 

"  Why,  now,  Wenna,  how  frightened  you  seem  !  Did  you 
think  I  was  going  to  scold  you  ?  No,  no,  no — I  hope  there 
is  no  necessity  for  that.  I  am  not  unreasonable  or  over-ex- 
acting, as  a  younger  man  might  be ;  I  can  make  allowances. 
Of  course  I  can't  say  I  liked  what  you  told  me,  when  I  first 
heard  of  it ;  but  then  I  reasoned  with  myself  :  I  thought  of 
your  lonely  position  ;  of  the  natural  liking  a  girl  has  for  the 
attention  of  a  young  man  ;  of  the  possibility  of  any  one  going 
thoughtlessly  wrong.  And  really  I  see  no  great  harm  done. 
A  passing  fancy — that  is  all." 

"  Oh,  I  hope  that  is  so  !  "  she  cried  suddenly,  with  a  pathet- 
ic earnestness  of  appeal.  "  It  is  so  good  of  you,  so  gener- 
ous of  you  to  speak  like  that !  " 

For  the  first  time  she  ventured  to  raise  her  eyes  to  his  face. 
They  were  full  of  gratitude.  Mr.  Roscorla  complimented 
himself  on  his  knowledge  of  women ;  a  younger  man  would 
have  flown  into  a  fury. 

"  Oh  dear,  yes,  Wenna  !  "  he  said  lightly,  "  I  suppose  all 
girls  have  their  fancies  stray  a  little  bit  from  time  to  time  ; 
but  is  there  any  harm  done  ?  None  whatever  !  There  is  noth- 
ing like  marriage  to  fix  the  affections,  as  I  hope  you  will  dis- 
cover ere  long — the  sooner  the  better,  indeed.  Now  we  will 
dismiss  all  those  unpleasant  matters  we  have  been  writing 
about." 

"  Then  you  do  forgive  me  ?  You  are  not  really  angry  with 
me  ? "  she  said  ;  and  then,  finding  a  welcome  assurance  in 
his  face,  she  gratefully  took  his  hand  and  touched  it  with  her 
lips. 


234  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

This  little  act  of  graceful  submission  quite  conquered  Mr. 
Roscorla,  and  definitely  removed  all  lingering  traces  of  anger 
from  his  heart.  He  was  no  longer  acting  clemency  when  he 
said — with  a  slight  blush  on  his  forehead — 

"  You  know,  Wenna,  I  have  not  been  free  from  blame 
either.  That  letter — it  was  merely  a  piece  ot  thoughtless  an- 
ger ;  but  still  it  was  very  kind  of  you  to  consider  it  cancelled 
and  withdrawn  when  I  asked  you.  Well,  I  was  in  a  bad  tem- 
per at  that  time.  You  cannot  look  at  things  so  philosoph- 
ically when  you  are  far  away  from  home  ;  you  feel  yourself  so 
helpless  ;  and  you  think  you  are  being  unfairly —  However, 
not  another  word !  Come,  let  us  talk  of  all  your  affairs,  and 
all  the  work  you  have  done  since  I  left." 

It  was  a  natural  invitation  ;  and  yet  it  revealed  in  a  moment 
the  hollowness  of  the  apparent  reconciliation  between  them. 
What  chance  of  mutual  confidence  could  there  be  between 
these  two  ? 

He  asked  Wenna  if  she  had  been  busy  in  his  absence ;  and 
the  thought  immediately  occurred  to  him  that  she  had  had  at 
least  sufficient  leisure  to  go  walking  about  with  young  Trel- 
yon. 

He  asked  her  about  the  Sewing  Club  ;  and  she  stumbled 
into  the  admission  that  Mr.  Trelyon  had  presented  that  asso- 
ciation with  six  sewing-machines. 

Always  Trelyon — always  the  recurrence  of  that  uneasy  con- 
sciousness of  the  past  events,  which  divided  these  two  as 
completely  as  the  Atlantic  had  done.  It  was  a  strange  meet- 
ing, after  that  long  absence. 

"  It  is  a  curious  thing,"  he  said,  rather  desperately,  "  how 
marriage  makes  a  husband  and  wife  sure  of  each  other. 
Anxiety  is  all  over  then.  We  have  near  us,  out  in  Jamaica, 
several  men  whose  wives  and  families  are  here  in  England  ; 
and  they  accept  their  exile  there  as  an  ordinary  commercial 
necessity.  But  then  they  put  their  whole  minds  into  their 
work  ;  for  they  know  that  when  they  return  to  England  they 
will  find  their  wives  and  families  just  as  they  left  them.  Of 
course,  in  the  majority  of  cases,  the  married  men  there  have 
taken  their  wives  out  with  them.  Do  you  fear  a  long  sea-voy- 
age, Wenna  ? " 

"  I  don't  know/'  she  said  rather  startled. 

"  You  ought  to  be  a  good  sailor,  you  know." 

She  said  nothing  to  that :  she  was  looking  down,  dreading 
what  was  coming. 

"  I  am  sure  you  must  be  a  good  sailor.  I  have  heard  of 
many  of  your  boating  adventures.     Weren't  you  rather  fond, 


SOME  OLD  FRIENDS.  235 

some  years  ago,  of  going  out  at  night  with  the  Lundy 
pilots  ?  " 

"  I  have  never  gone  a  long  voyage  in  a  large  vessel,"  Wen- 
na  said,  rather  faintly. 

"  But  if  there  was  any  reasonable  object  to  be  gained,  an 
ordinary  sea-voyage  would  not  frighten  you  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  not." 

"  And  they  have  really  very  good  steamers  going  to  the 
West  Indies." 

"  Oh,  indeed." 

"  First-rate  !     You  get  a  most  comfortable  cabin." 

"I  thought  you  rather — in  your  description  of  it — in  your 
first  letter — " 

"Oh,"  said  he,  hurriedly  and  lightly  (for  he  had  been 
claiming  sympathy  on  account  of  the  discomfort  of  his  voy- 
age out),  "perhaps  I  made  a  little  too  much  of  that.  Besides, 
I  did  not  make  a  proper  choice  in  time.  One  gains  experi- 
ence in  such  matters.  Now,  if  you  were  going  out  to  Jamaica, 
I  should  see  that  you  had  every  comfort." 

"  But  you  don't  wish  me  to  go  out  to  Jamaica  ?  "  she  said, 
almost  retreating  from  him. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  with  a  smile,  for  his  only  object  at  pres- 
ent was  to  familiarize  her  with  the  idea,  "  I  don't  particu- 
larly wish  it,  unless  the  project  seemed  a  good  one  to  you. 
You  see,  Wenna,  I  find  that  my  stay  there  must  be  longer 
than  I  expected.  When  I  went  out  at  first  the  intention  of 
my  partners  and  myself  was  that  I  should  merely  be  on  the 
spot  to  help  our  manager  by  comparing  his  accounts  at  the 
moment,  and  undertaking  a  lot  of  work  of  that  sort,  which 
otherwise  would  have  consumed  time  in  correspondence.  I 
was  merely  to  see  the  whole  thing  well  started,  and  then  re- 
turn. But  now  I  find  that  my  superintendence  may  be  needed 
there  for  a  long  while.  Just  when  everything  promises  so 
well,  I  should  not  like  to  imperil  all  our  chances  simply  for 
a  year  or  two." 

"  Oh  no,  of  course  not,"  Wenna  said  ;  she  had  no  objection 
to  his  remaining  in  Jamaica  for  a  year  or  two  longer  than  he 
had  intended. 

"  That  being  so,"  he  continued,  "  it  occurred  to  me  that 
perhaps  you  might  consent  to  our  marriage  before  I  leave 
England  again  ;  and  that,  indeed,  you  might  even  make  up 
your  mind  to  try  a  trip  to  Jamaica.  Of  course,  we  should 
have  considerable  spells  of  holiday,  if  you  thought  it  was 
worth  while  coming  home  for  a  short  time.  I  assure  you,  you 
would  find  the  place  delightful — far  more  delightful  than  any- 


236  THREE  FEATHERS. 

thing  I  told  you   in  my  letters,   for  I'm  not  very  good   at 
describing  things.     And  there  is  a  fair  amount  of  society." 

He  did  not  prefer  the  request  in  an  impassioned  manner. 
On  the  contrary,  he  merely  felt  that  he  was  satisfying  him- 
self by  carrying  out  an  intention  he  had  formed  on  his 
voyage  home.  If,  he  had  said  to  himself,  Wenna  and  he 
became  friends,  he  would  at  least  suggest  to  her  that  she 
might  put  an  end  to  all  further  suspense  and  anxiety  by  at 
once  marrying  him  and  accompanying  him  to  Jamaica. 

"  What  do  you  say  ?  "  he  said,  with  a  friendly  smile.  "  Or 
have  I  frightened  you  too  much?  Well,  let  us  drop  the 
subject  altogether  for  the  present." 

Wenna  breathed  again. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  good-naturedly,  "  you  can  think  over  it. 
In  the  mean  time  do  not  harass  yourself  about  that  or  any- 
thing else.  You  know,  I  have  come  home  to  spend  a  holi- 
day." 

"  And  won't  you  come  and  see  the  others  ?  "  said  Wenna, 
rising,  with  a  glad  look  of  relief  on  her  face. 

"  Oh  yes,  if  you  like,"  he  said,  and  then  he  stopped  short, 
and  an  angry  gleam  shot  into  his  eyes. 

"  Wenna,  who  gave  you  that  ring  ? " 

"  Oh,  Mabyn  did,"  was  the  frank  reply ;  but  all  the  same 
Wenna  blushed  hotly,  for  that  matter  of  the  emerald  ring  had 
not  been  touched  upon. 

"  Mabyn  did  ? "  he  repeated,  somewhat  suspiciously. 
"  She  must  have  been  in  a  generous  mood." 

"  When  you  know  Mabyn  as  well  as  I  do,  you  will  find 
out  that  she  always  is,"  said  Miss  Wenna,  quite  cheerfully  ; 
she  was  indeed  in  the  best  of  spirits  to  find  that  this  dreaded 
interview  had  not  been  so  very  frightful  after  all,  and  that 
she  had  done  no  mortal  injury  to  one  who  had  placed  his 
happiness  in  her  hands. 

When  Mr.  Roscorla,  some  time  after,  set  out  to  walk  by 
himself  up  to  Basset  Cottage,  whither  his  luggage  had  been 
sent  before  him,  he  felt  a  little  tired.  He  was  not  accustomed 
to  violent  emotions ;  and  that  morning  he  had  gone  through 
a  good  deal.  His  anger  and  anxiety  had  for  long*been  fight- 
ing for  mastery;  and  both  had  reached  their  climax  that 
morning.  On  the  one  hand,  he  wanted  to  avenge  himself  for 
the  insult  paid  him,  and  to  show  that  he  was  not  to  be  trifled 
with  ;  on  the  other  hand,  his  anxiety  lest  he  should  be  unable 
to  make  up  matters  with  Wenna,  led  him  to  put  an  unusual 
value  upon  her.     What  was  the  result^  now  that  he  had  defi- 


SOME  OLD  FRIENDS.  237 

nitely  won  her  back  to  himself  ?  What  was  the  sentiment  that 
followed  on  these  jarring  emotions  of  the  morning? 

To  tell  the  truth,  a  little  disappointment.  Wenna  was  not 
looking  her  best  when  she  entered  the  room ;  even  now  he 
remembered  that  the  pale  face  rather  shocked  him.  She  was 
more — insignificant,  perhaps,  is  the  best  word — than  he  had  ex- 
pected. Now  that  he  had  got  back  the  prize  which  he  thought 
he  had  lost,  it  did  not  seem  to  him,  after  all,  to  be  so  wonder- 
ful. 

And  in  this  mood  he  went  up  and  walked  into  the  pretty 
little  cottage  which  had  once  been  his  home.  "  What  ?  "  he 
said  to  himself,  looking  in  amazement  at  the  small  old-fashioned 
parlor,  and  at  the  still  smaller  study,  filled  with  books,  "  is  it 
possible  that  I  ever  proposed  to  myself  to  live  and  die  in  a 
hole  like  this  ? — my  only  companion  a  cantankerous  old  fool 
of  a  woman,  my  only  occupation  reading  the  newspapers,  my 
only  society  the  good  folks  of  the  inn  ?  " 

He  thanked  God  he  had  escaped.  His  knocking  about  the 
wrorld  for  a  bit  had  opened  up  his  mind.  The  possibility  of 
his  having  in  time  a  handsome  income  had  let  in  upon  him 
many  new  and  daring  ambitions. 

His  housekeeper,  having  expressed  her  grief  that  she  had 
just  posted  some  letters  to  him,  not  knowing  that  he  was  re- 
turning to  England,  brought  in  a  number  of  small  pass-books 
and  a  large  sheet  of  blue  paper. 

"  If  yii  bain't  too  tired,  zor,  vor  to  look  over  the  accounts, 
'tis  all  theear  but  the  pultry  that  Mr. — " 

"  Good  heavens,  Mrs.  Cornish  !  "  said  he,  "  do  you  think  I 
am  going  to  look  over  a  lot  of  grocers'  bills  ? " 

Mrs.  Cornish  not  only  hinted  in  very  plain  language  that 
her  master  had  been  at  one  time  particular  enough  about  gro- 
cers' bills,  and  all  other  bills,  however  trifling,  but  further 
proceeded  to  give  him  a  full  and  minute  account  of  the  vari- 
ous incidental  expenses  to  which  she  had  been  put  through 
young  Penny  Luke  having  bioken  a  window  by  flinging  a 
stone  from  the  road ;  through  the  cat  having  knocked  down 
the  best  teapot ;  through  the  pig  having  got  out  of  its  sty, 
gone  mad,  and  smashed  a  cucumber-frame  ;  and  so  forth,  and 
so  forth.  In  desperation,  Mr.  Roscorla  got  up,  put  on  his  hat, 
and  went  outside,  leaving  her  at  once  astonished  and  indig- 
nant over  his  want  of  interest  in  what  at  one  time  had  been 
his  only  care. 

Was  this,  then,  the  place  in  which  he  had  chosen  to  spend 
the  rest  of  his  life,  without  change,  without  movement,  with- 
out interest  ?     It  seemed  to  him  at  the  moment  a  living  tomb. 


238  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

There  was  not  a  human  being  within  sight.  Far  away  out 
there  lay  the  gray-blue  sea — a  plain  without  a  speck  on  it. 
The  great  black  crags  at  the  mouth  of  the  harbor  were  voice- 
less and  sterile ;  could  anything  have  been  more  bleak  than 
the  bare  uplands  on  which  the  pale  sun  of  an  English  Octo- 
ber was  shining  ?  The  quiet  crushed  him  ;  there  was  not  a 
nigger  near  to  swear  at ;  nor  could  he,  at  the  impulse  of  a 
moment,  get  on  horseback  and  ride  over  to  the  busy  and 
interesting  and  picturesque  scene  supplied  by  his  faithful 
coolies  at  work. 

What  was  he  to  do  on  this  very  first  day  in  England,  for 
example  ?  Unpack  his  luggage,  in  which  were  some  curiosi- 
ties he  had  brought  home  for  Wenna  ? — there  was  too  much 
trouble  in  that.  Walk  about  the  garden  and  smoke  a  pipe  as 
had  been  his  wont  ? — he  had  got  emancipated  from  these  de- 
lights of  dotage.  Attack  his  grocers'  bills  ? — he  swore  by  all 
his  gods  that  he  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  price  of 
candles  and  cheese  now  or  at  any  future  time.  The  return  of 
the  exile  to  his  native  land  had  already  produced  a  feeling  of 
deep  disappointment ;  when  he  married,  he  said  to  himself, 
he  would  take  very  good  care  not  to  sink  into  an  oyster-like 
life  in  Eglosilyan. 

About  a  couple  of  hours  after,  however,  he  was  reminded 
that  Eglosilyan  had  its  small  measure  of  society  by  the  receipt 
of  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Trelyon,  who  said  she  had  just  heard  of 
his  arrival,  and  hastened  to  ask  him  whether  he  would  dine 
at  the  PI  all,  not  next  evening,  but  the  following  one,  to  meet 
two  old  friends  of  his,  General  and  Lady  Weekes,  who  were 
there  on  a  brief  visit. 

"  And  I  have  written  to  ask  Miss  Rosewarne,"  Mrs.  Trel- 
yon continued,  "  to  spare  us  the  same  evening,  so  that  we 
hope  to  have  you  both.  Perhaps  you  will  kindly  add  your 
entreaties  to  mine." 

The  friendly  intention  of  this  postscript  was  evident ;  and 
yet  it  did  not  seem  to  please  Mr.  Roscorla.  This  Sir  Percy 
Weekes  had  been  a  friend  of  his  father's ;  and  when  the 
younger  Roscorla  was  a  young  man  about  town,  Lady  Weekes 
had  been  very  kind  to  him,  and  had  nearly  got  him  mar- 
ried once  or  twice.  There  was  a  great  contrast  between 
those  days  and  these.  He  hoped  the  old  gentleman  would 
not  be  tempted  to  come  and  visit  him  at  Basset  Cottage. 

"  Oh,  Wenna,"  said  he  carelessly  to  her  next  morning, 
"  Mrs.  Trelyon  told  me  she  had  asked  you  to  go  up  there  to- 
morrow evening." 

"  Yes,"  Wenna  said,  looking  rather  uncomfortable.     Then 


SOME  OLD  FRIENDS.  239 

she  added,  quickly,  "Would  it  displease  you  if  I  did  not  go  ? 
I  ought  to  be  at  a  children's  party  at  Mr.  Trewhella's." 

This  was  precisely  what  Mr.  Roscorla  wanted  ;  but  he 
said — 

"  You  must  not  be  shy,  Wenna.  However,  please  yourself ; 
you  need  have  no  fear  of  vexing  me.  But  I  must  go  ;  for 
the  Weekeses  are  old  friends  of  mine." 

"They  stayed  at  the  inn  two  or  three  days  in  May  last," 
said  Wenna,  innocently.  "  They  came  here  by  chance  and 
found  Mrs.  Trelyon  from  home." 

Mr.  Roscorla  seemed  startled. 

"  Oh,"  said  he.     "  Did  they— did  they— ask  for  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  believe  they  did,"  Wenna  said. 

"  Then  you  told  them,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  with  a  pleasant 
smile — "  you  told  them,  of  course,  why  you  were  the  best  per- 
son in»the  world  to  give  them  information  about  me  ?" 

"  Oh,  dear  no,"  said  Wenna,  blushing  hotly,  "  they  spoke 
to  Jennifer." 

Mr,  Roscorla  felt  himself  rebuked.  It  was  George  Rose- 
warne's  express  wish  that  his  daughters  should  not  be  ap- 
proached by  strangers  visiting  the  inn  as  if  they  were  offi- 
cially connected  with  the  place  ;  Mr.  Roscorla  should  have 
remembered  that  inquiries  would  be  made  of  a  servant. 

But,  as  it  happened,  Sir  Percy  and  his  wife  had  really 
made  the  acquaintance  of  both  Wenna  and  Mabyn  on  their 
chance  visit  to  Eglosilyan  ;  and  it  was  of  these  two  girls  they 
were  speaking  when  Mr.  Roscorla  was  announced  in  Mrs. 
Trelyon's  drawing-room  the  following  evening.  The  thin, 
wiry,  white-moustached  old  man,  who  had  wonderfully  bright 
eyes  and  a  great  vivacity  of  spirits  for  a  veteran  of  seventy- 
four,  was  standing  in  front  of  the  fire,  and  declaring  to  every- 
body that  two  such  well-accomplished,  smart,  talkative,  and 
ladylike  young  women  he  had  never  met  with  in  his  life. 

"  What  did  you  say  the  name  was,  my  dear  Mrs.  Trelyon  ? 
Rosewarne,  eh  ? — Rosewarne  ?  A  good  old  Cornish  name — 
as  good  as  yours,  Roscorla.  So  they're  called  Rosewarne — 
Gad,  if  her  august  ladyship  there  wants  to  appoint  a  succes- 
sor, I'm  willing  to  let  her  choice  fall  on  one  o'  those  two 
girls." 

Her  august  ladyship — a  dark  and  silent  old  woman  of 
eighty — did  not  like,  in  the  first  place,  to  be  called  her  au- 
gust ladyship,  and  did  not  relish  either  having  her  death 
talked  of  as  a  joke. 

"Roscorla,  now — Roscorla — there's  \  good  chance  for 
you,  eh  ?  "  continued  the  old  General.     "  We  never  could  get 


2p  THREE  FEATHERS. 

you  married,  you  know — wild  young  dog.  Don't  ye  know 
the  girls  ? " 

"Oh  yes,  Sir  Percy,"  Mr.  Roscorla  said,  with  no  great 
good  will ;  then  he  turned  to  the  fire  and  began  to  warm  his 
hands. 

There  was  a  tall  young  gentleman  standing  there  who,  in 
former  days,  would  have  been  delighted  to  cry  out  on  such  an 
occasion,  "Why,  Roscorla's  going  to  marry  one  of  'em." 
He  remained  silent  now. 

He  was  very  silent,  too,  throughout  the  evening  ;  and  al- 
most anxiously  civil  towards  Mr.  Roscorla.  He  paid  great 
attention  when  the  latter  was  describing  to  the  company  at 
table  the  beauties  of  West  Indian  scenery,  the  delights  of 
West  Indian  life,  the  change  that  had  come  over  the  pros- 
pects of  Jamaica  since  the  introduction  of  coolie  labor,  and 
the  fashion  in  which  the  rich  merchants  of  Cuba  were  setting 
about  getting  plantations  there  for  the  growth  of  tobacco. 
Mr.  Roscorla  spoke  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  now  knew 
what  the  world  was.  When  the  old  General  asked  him  if  he 
were  coming  back  to  live  in  Eglosilyan  after  he  had  become 
a  millionaire,  he  laughed,  and  said  that  one's  coffin  came 
soon  enough  without  one's  rushing  to  meet  it.  No ;  when  he 
came  back  to  England  finally,  he  would  live  in  London ;  and 
had  Sir  Percy  still  that  old  walled-in  house  in  Brompton  ? 

Sir  Percy  paid  less  heed  to  these  descriptions  of  Jamaica 
than  Harry  Trelyon  did,  for  his  next  neighbor  was  old  Mrs. 
Trelyon,  and  these  two  venerable  flirts  were  talking  of  old 
acquaintances  and  old  times  at  Bath  and  Cheltenham,  and 
of  the  celebrated  beauties,  wits,  and  murderers  of  other  days, 
in  a  manner  which  her  silent  ladyship  did  not  at  all  seem  to 
approve.  The  General  was  bringing  out  all  his  old  fashioned 
gallantry-compliments,  easy  phrases  in  French,  polite  atten- 
tions ;  his  companion  began  to  use  her  fan  with  a  coquettish 
grace,  and  was  vastly  pleased  when  a  reference  was  made  to 
her  celebrated  flight  to  Gretna  Green. 

"  Ah,  Sir  Percy,"  she  said,  "  the  men  were  men  in  those 
days,  and  the  women  women,  I  promise  you ;  no  beating 
about  the  bush,  but  the  fair  word  given,  and  the  fair  word 
taken  ;  and  then  a  broken  head  for  whoever  should  interfere 
— father,  uncle,  or  brother,  no  matter  who ;  and  you  know 
our  family,  Sir  Percy,  our  family  were  among  the  worst — " 

"  I  tell  you  what,  madam,"  said  the  General,  hotly,  "  your 
family  had  among  'em  the  handsomest  women  in  the  west  of 
England — and  the  handsomest  men,  too,  by  Gad.  Do  you 
remember  Jane  Swanhope — the  Fair  Maid  of  Somerset  they 


SOME  OLD  FRIENDS.  241 

used  to  call  her — that  married  th§  fellow  living  down  Yeovil 
way,  who  broke  his  neck  in  a  steeplechase  ? " 

"  Do  I  remember  her  ?  "  said  the  old  lady.  "  She  was  one 
of  my  bridesmaids  when  they  took  me  up  to  London  to  get 
married  properly  after  I  came  back.  She  was  my  cousin  on 
the  mother's  side  ;  but  they  were  connected  with  the  Trelyons, 
too.  Arid  do  you  remember  old  John  Treylon  of  Polkerris  ; 
and  did  you  ever  see  a  man  straighter  in  the  back  than  he 
was,  at  seventy-one,  when  he  married  his  second  wife — that 
was  at  Exeter,  I  think.  But  there  now,  you  don't  find  such 
men  and  women  in  these  times  ;  and  do  you  know  the  reason 
of  that,  Sir  Percy  ?  I'll  tell  you  ;  it's  the  doctors.  The  doc- 
tors can  keep  all  the  sickly  ones  alive  now  ;  before  it  was 
only  the  strong  ones  that  lived.  Dear,  clear  me !  when  I 
hear  some  of  those  London  women  talk — it  is  nothing  but  a 
catalogue  of  illnesses  and  diseases.  No  wonder  they  should 
say  in  church,  '  There  is  no  health  in  us ; '  every  one  of  them 
has  something  the  matter,  even  the  young  girls,  poor  things ; 
and  pretty  mothers  they're  likely  to  make  !  They're  a  misery 
to  themselves ;  they'll  bring  miserable  things  into  the  world ; 
and  all  because  the  doctors  have  become  so  clever  in  pulling 
sickly  people  through.  That's  my  opinion,  Sir  Percy.  The 
doctors  are  responsible  for  five  sixths  of  all  the  suffering  you 
hear  of  in  families,  either  through  illness  or  the  losing  of 
one's  friends  and  relatives." 

"  Upon  my  word,  madam,"  the  General  protested,  "  you  use 
the  doctor  badly.  He  is  blamed  if  he  kills  people,  and  he 
is  blamed  if  he  keeps  them  alive.     What  is  he  to  do  ? " 

''  Do  ?  He  can't  help  saving  the  sickly  ones  now,"  the 
old  lady  admitted  ;  "  for  relatives  will  have  it  done,  and  they 
know  he  can  do  it;  but  it's  a  great  misfortune,  Sir  Percy, 
that's  what  it  is,  to  have  all  these  sickly  creatures  growing 
up  to  intermarry  into  the  good  old  families  that  used  to  be 
famous  for  their  comeliness  and  strength.  There  was  a  man 
— yes,  I  remember  him  well — that  came  from  Devonshire — 
he  was  a  man  of  good  family,  too,  and  they  made  such  a  noise 
about  his  wrestling.  Said  I  to  myself,  wrestling  is  not  a  fit 
amusement  for  gentlemen,  but  if  this  man  comes  up  to  our 
county,  there's  one  or  other  of  the  Trelyons  will  try  his  met- 
tle. And  well  I  remember  saying  to  my  eldest,  son  George 
— you  remember  when  he  was  a  young  man,  Sir  Percy,  no 
older  than  his  own  son  there — '  George,'  I  said,  '  if  this  Mr. 
So-and-so  comes  into  these  parts,  mind  you  have  nothing  to 
do  with  him  ;  for  wrestling  is  not  fit  for  gentlemen.'  '  All 
right,  mother,'  said  he ;  but  he  laughed,  and  I  knew  what  the 
16 


242  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

laugh  meant.  My  dear  Sir  Percy,  I  tell  you  the  man  hadn't 
a  chance — I  heard  of  it  all  afterwards.  George  caught  him 
up,  before  he  could  begin  any  of  his  tricks,  and  flung  him 
onto  the  hedge — and  there  were  a  dozen  more  in  our  family 
who  could  have  done  ft,  I'll  be  bound." 

"But  then,  you  know,  Mrs.  Trelyon,"  Mr.  Roscorla  vent- 
ured to  say,  "physical  strength  is  not  everything  that  is 
needed.  If  the  doctors  were  to  let  the  sickly  ones  die,  we 
might  be  losing  all  sorts  of  great  poets  and  statesmen  and 
philosophers." 

The  old  lady  turned  on  him. 

"  And  do  you  think  a  man  has  to  be  sickly  to  be  clever ! 
No,  no,  Mr.  Roscorla,  give  him  better  health  and  you  give 
him  a  better  head,  that's  what  we  believed  in  the  old  days. 
I  fancy,  now,  there  were  greater  men  before  all  this  coddling 
began  than  there  are  now — yes,  I  do ;  and  if  there  is  a  great 
man  coming  into  the  world,  the  chances  are  just  as  much  that 
he'll  be  among  the  strong  ones  as  among  the  sickly  ones — 
what  do  you  think,  Sir  Percy  ?  " 

"  I  declare  you're  right,  madame,"  said  he  gallantly. 
"  You've  quite  convinced  me.  Of  course,  some  of  'em  must 
go — I  say,  let  the  sickly  ones  go." 

"  I  never  heard  such  brutal,  such  murderous  sentiments 
expressed  in  my  life  before,"  said  a  solemn  voice ;  and  every 
one  became  aware  that  at  last  Lady  Weekes  had  spoken. 
Her  speech  was  the  signal  for  universal  silence,  in  the 
midst  of  which  the  ladies  got  up  and  left  the  room. 

Trelyon  took  his  mother's  place  and  sent  around  the  wine. 
He  was  particularly  attentive  to  Roscorla,  who  was  surprised. 
"  Perhaps,"  thought  the  latter,  "  he  is  anxious  to  atone  for 
all  this  bother  that  is  now  happily  over." 

If  the  younger  man  was  silent  and  preoccupied,  that  was 
not  the  case  with  Mr.  Roscorla,  who-  was  already  assuming 
the  airs  of  a  rich  person,  and  speaking  of  his  being  unable 
to  live  in  this  district  or  that  district  of  London,  just  as  if  he 
expected  to  purchase  a  lease  of  Buckingham  Palace  on  his 
return  from  Jamaica. 

"  And  how  are  all  my  old  friends  in  Hans  Place,  Sir  Per- 
cy ?  "  he  cried. 

"  You've  been  a  deserter,  sir — you've  been  a  deserter  for 
many  a  year  now,"  the  General  said  gayly,  "  but  we're  all 
willing  to  have  you  back  again  to  a  quiet  rubber  after  dinner, 
you  know.  Do  you  remember  old  John  Thwaites  ?  Ah,  he's 
gone  now — left  ;£i  50,000  to  build  a  hospital,  and  only  ^5 000 
to  his  sister.     The  poor  old- woman  believed  some  one  would 


SOME  OLD  FRIENDS.  243 

marrvher  when  she  got  the  whole  of  her  brother's  money- 

mmw^ 

r  >        Gad  I  must  go  and  ask  her  ladyship— 
And  ofl E  he  trotted*  to  the  drawing-room.     He  came  back 

'""Ofcourse^^he.     "Devilish  stupid  o£  me  to  forget 

it     ?wh"'  said  the  young  lady, '  I  think  the  author  has 

L  I  Z~  f*  Vppn  the  second  commandment,  for  there  s 
been  trying  to  keep  the     e  ness  to         thing  m 

^n^bVe^nlhelLth  benelth,  or  the  heavens  under 
the  earth—'  ",,•,.  „ 

:?SrrS£?-"2^  «.b«  ladyship  was 
^Which  oftftwo  young  ladies  was  it,  Sir.  Percy  ?  The 
*=T' iTSlTA  -  «S?^  Trelyon. 

"?i  tfSrVshe  VV  wlftS  Captlin^terr- 

tWnk  >  His  son's  got  into  Parliament  now-gone  over  to 
heRads  and  Ae  working-men,  and  those  fellows  that  are 

scheming  to get the  land  divided  among  themselves-allm 

the  name  of  philosophy-and  its  a  devilish  fine  sort  of  phi- 

osoDhv  that  fs  when  you  haven't  a  rap  in  your  pocket  and 

i    PL,,nrove  that  everybody  who  has  must  give  it  up. 

H™e  tom  house the other  day,  and  he  was  jawing  away 

so^yu  don't  mind  a  general  division.     Wren  you  hav       ou 
want  to  stick  to  what's  in  your  own  pocket.      Had  him  mere, 

^The  old  General  beamed  and  laughed  over  his  smartness i ; 
he  was  conscious  o£  having  said  something  that,  in  shape  at 
least,  was  like  an  epigram. 


244  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

"  I  must  rub  up  my  acquaintance  in  that  quarter,"  said 
Roscorla,  "  before  I  leave  again.  Fortunately,  I  have  always 
kept  up  my  club  subscription ;  and  you'll  come  and  dine 
with  me,  Sir  Percy,  won't  you,  when  I  get  to  town  ? " 

"  Are  you  going  to  town  ?  "  said  Trelyon,  quickly. 

"  Oh  yes,  of  course." 

"  When  ? " 

The  question  was  abrupt,  and  it  made  Roscorla  look  at 
the  young  man  as  he  answered.  Trelyon  seemed  to  him  to 
be  very  much  harassed  about  something  or  other. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  in  a  week  or  so  ;  I  am  only  home  for  a 
holiday,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  you'll  be  here  for  a  week  ?  "  said  the  young  man,  sub- 
missively.    "  When  do  you  think  of  returning  to  Jamaica  ? " 

"  Probably  at  the  beginning  of  next  month.  Fancy  leav- 
ing England  in  November — just  at  the  most  hideous  time  of 
the  year — and  in  a  week  or  two  getting  out  into  summer  again, 
with  the  most  beautiful  climate,  and  foliage,  and  what  not, 
all  around  you  !  I  can  tell  you  a  man  makes  a  great  mistake 
who  settles  down  to  a  sort  of  vegetable  life  anywhere — you 
don't  catch  me  at  that  again." 

"  There's  some  old  women,"  observed  the  General,  who 
was  so  anxious  to  show  his  profundity  that  he  quite  forgot 
the  invidious  character  of  the  comparison,  "  who  are  just  like 
trees — as  much  below  the  ground  as  above  it — isn't  that  true, 
eh  ?  They're  a  deal  more  at  home  among  the  people  they 
have  buried  than  among  those  that  are  alive.  I  don't  say 
that's  your  case,  Roscorla.  You're  comparatively  a  young 
man  yet— you've  got  brisk  health — I  don't  wonder  at  your 
liking  to  knock  about.  As  for  you,  young  Trelyon,  what  do 
you  mean  to  do  ?  " 

Harry  Trelyon  started. 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  with  some  confusion,  "  I  have  no  immedi- 
ate plans.  Yes,  I  have — don't  you  know  I  have  been  cram- 
ming for  the  Civil  Service  examinations  for  first  commissions  ?" 

"And  what  the  devil  made  the  War  Office  go  to  those 
civilians  ?  "  muttered  the  General. 

"  And  if  I  pull  through,  I  shall  want  all  your  influence  to 
get  me  gazetted  to  a  good  regiment.  Don't  they  often  shunt 
you  onto  the  First  or  Second  West  Indians  ? " 

"And  you've  enough  money  to  back  you  too,"  said  the 
General.  "  I  tell  you  what  it  is,  gentlemen,  if  they  abolish 
the  purchase  of  commissions  in  the  army — and  they're  al- 
ways talking  about  it — they  don't  know  what  they'll  bring 
about.     They'll  have  two  sets  of  officers  in  the  army — men 


A  DARK  CONSPIRACY. 


:45 


with  money,  who  like  a  good  mess,  and  live  far  beyond  their 
pay,  and  men  with  no  money  at  all,  who've  got  to  live  on 
their  pay,  and  how  can  they  afford  the  regimental  mess  out 
of  that  ?  But  Parliament  won't  stand  it,  you'll  see.  The 
War  Minister'll  be  beaten  if  he  brings  it  on — take  my  word 
for  that." 

The  old  General  had  probably  never  heard  of  a  royal  war- 
rant and  its  mighty  powers. 

"  So  you're  going  to  be  one  of  us  ? "  he  said  to  Trelyon. 
"  Well,  you've  a  smart  figure  for  a  uniform.  You're  the 
first  of  your  side  of  the  family  to  go  into  the  army,  eh  ?  You 
had  some  naval  men  among  you,  eh  ?  " 

"  I  think  you'd  better  ask  my  grandmother,"  said  young 
Trelyon,  with  a  laugh  ;  "  she'll  tell  you  stories  about  'em  by 
the  hour  together." 

"  She's  a  wonderful  woman  that — a  wonderful  old  creature," 
said  the  General,  just  as  if  he  were  a  sprightly  young  fellow 
talking  of  the  oldest  inhabitant  of  the  district.  "  She's  not 
one  of  them  that  are  half  buried ;  she's  wide  enough  awake, 
I'll  be  bound.  Gad,  what  a  handsome  woman  she  was  when 
I  saw  her  first.  WTell,  lads,  let's  join  the  ladies  ;  I'm  none 
of  your  steady-going  old  topers.  Enough's  as  good's  a 
feast — that's  my  motto.  And  I  can't  write  my  name  on  a 
slate  with  my  knuckles,  either." 

And  so  they  went  into  the  large,  dimly  lighted  red  chamber, 
where  the  women  were  having  tea  around  the  blazing  fire. 
The  men  took  various  chairs  about ;  the  conversation  became 
general ;  old  Lady  Weekes  feebly  endeavored  to  keep  up  her 
eyelids.  In  about  half  an  hour  or  so  Mrs.  Trelyon  happened 
to  glance  around  the  room. 

"Where's  Harry  ?  "  said  she. 

No  one  apparently  had  noticed  that  MasterHarry  had  disap- 
peared. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

A  DARK  CONSPIRACY. 

Now,  when  Harry  Trelyon  drove  up  to  the  Hall,  after  leav- 
ing Wenna  Rosewarne  in  the  road,  he  could  not  tell  why  he 
was  vexed  with  her.  He  imagined  somehow  that  she  should 
not  have  allowed  Mr.  Roscorla  to  come  home — and  to  come 
home  just  at  this  moment,  when  he,  Trelyon,  had  stolen  down 
for  a  couple  of  days  to  have  a  shy  look  at  the  sweetheart  who 


246  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

was  so  far  out  of  his  reach.  She  ought  to  have  been  alone. 
Then  she  ought  not  to  have  looked  so  calm  and  complacent 
on  going  away  to  meet  Mr.  Roscorla  ;  she  ought  to  have  been 
afraid.  She  ought  to  have — in  short,  everything  was  wrong, 
and  Wenna  was  largely  to  blame. 

"  Well,  grandmother,"  said  he,  as  they  drove  through  the 
avenue,  "  don't  you  expect  every  minute  to  flush  a  covey  of 
parsons  ? " 

He  was  angry  with  Wenna ;  and  so  he  broke  out  once 
more  in  his  old  vein. 

"  There  are  worse  men  than  the  parsons,  Harry,"  the  old 
lady  said. 

"  I'll  bet  you  a  sovereign  there  are  two  on  the  door-step." 

He  would  have  lost.  There  was  not  a  clergyman  of  any 
sort  in  or  about  the  house. 

"  Isn't  Mr.  Barnes  here  ? "  said  he  to  his  mother. 

Mrs.  Trelyon  flushed  slightly,  as  she  said — 

"  No,  Harry,  Mr.  Barnes  is  not  here.  Nor  is  he  likely  to 
visit  here  again." 

Now  Mr.  Roscorla  would  at  once  have  perceived  what  a 
strange  little  story  lay  behind  that  simple  speech ;  but  Mr. 
Harry,  paying  no  attention  to  it,  merely  said  he  was  heartily 
glad  to  hear  of  it,  and  showed  his  gratitude  by  being  unusually 
polite  to  his  mother  during  the  the  rest  of  his  stay. 

"  And  so  Mr.  Roscorla  has  come  back,"  his  mother  said. 
"  General  Weekes  was  asking  about  him  only  yesterday.  We 
must  see  if  he  will  come  up  to  dinner  the  night  after  to- 
morrow— and  Miss  Rosewarne  also." 

"  You  may  ask  her — you  ought  to  ask  her — but  she  won't 
come,"  said  he. 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  "  Mrs.  Trelyon  said,  with  a  gentle 
wonder.     "  She  has  been  here  very  often  of  late." 

"  Have  you  let  her  walk  up  ?  " 

"  No,  I  have  generally  driven  down  for  her  when  I  wanted 
to  see  her ;  and  the  way  she  has  been  working  for  these 
people  is  extraordinary — never  tired,  always  cheerful,  ready 
to  be  bothered  by  anybody,  and  patient  with  their  suspicions 
and  simplicity,  beyond  belief.  I  am  sure  Mr.  Roscorla  will 
have  an  excellent  wife." 

"  I  am  not  at  all  sure  that  he  will,"  said  her  son,  goaded 
past  endurance. 

"  Why,  Harry,"  said  his  mother,  with  her  eyes  wide  open, 
"  I  thought  you  had  a  great  respect  for  Miss  Rosewarne." 

"  I  have,"  he  said,  abruptly,  "  far  too  great  a  respect  to 
like  the  notion  of  her  marrying  that  old  fool." 


A  DARK  CONSPIRACY. 


247 


Would  you  rather  not  have  him  to  dinner  ?  " 
"  Oh,  I  should  like  to  have  him  to  dinner." 
For  one  evening,  at  least,  this  young  man  considered, 
these  two  would  be  separated.  He  was  pretty  sure  that 
Roscorla  would  come  to  meet  General  Weekes ;  he  was  pos- 
itive that  Wenna  would  not  come  to  the  house  while  he  him- 
self was  in  it. 

But  the  notion  that,  except  during  this  one  evening,  his 
rival  would  have  free  access  to  the  inn,  and  would  spend 
pleasant  hours  there,  and  would  take  Wenna  with  him  for 
walks  along  the  coast,  maddened  him.  He  dared  not  go 
down  to  the  village,  for  fear  of  seeing  these  two  together. 
He  walked  about  the  grounds,  or  went  away  over  to  the  cliffs, 
torturing  his  heart  with  imagining  Roscorla's  opportunities. 
And  once  or  twice  he  was  on  the  point  of  going  straight  down 
to  Eglosilyan,  and  calling  on  Wenna,  before  Roscorla's  face, 
to  be  true  to  her  own  heart,  and  declare  herself  free  from 
this  old  and  hateful  entanglement. 

In  these  circumstances  his  grandmother  was  not  a  good 
companion  for  him.  In  her  continual  glorification  of  the 
self-will  of  the  Trelyons,  and  her  stories  of  the  wild  deeds 
she  had  done,  she  was  unconsciously  driving  him  to  some  des- 
perate thing,  against  his  better  judgment. 

"  Why,  grandmother,"  he  said,  one  day,  "  you  hint  that  I 
am  a  nincompoop  because  I  don't  go  and  carry  off  that  girl 
and  marry  her  against  her  will.  Is  that  what  you  mean  by 
telling  me  of  what  the  men  did  in  former  days  ?  Well,  I  can 
tell  you  this,  that  it  would  be  a  deal  easier  for  me  to  try  that 
than  not  to  try  it.  The  difficulty  is  in  holding  your  hand. 
But  what  good  would  you  do,  after  all  ?  The  time  has  gone 
by  for  that  sort  of  thing.  I  shouldn't  like  to  have  on  my 
hands  a  woman  sulking  because  she  was  married  by  force — 
besides,  you  can't  do  these  mad  freaks  now — there  are  too 
many  police-courts  about." 

"  By  force  ?  No  !  "  the  old  lady  said.  "  The  girls  I  speak 
of  were  as  glad  to  run  away  as  the  men,  I  can  tell  you,  and 
they  did  it,  too,  when  their  relations  were  against  the  match." 
"  Of  course,  if  both  he  and  she  are  agreed,  the  way  is  as 
smooth  now  as  it  was  then  ;  you  don't  need  to  care  much  for 
relations." 

"But,  Harry,  you  don't  know  what  a  girl  thinks,"  this 
dangerous  old  lady  said.  "  She  has  her  notions  of  duty,  and 
her  respect  for  her  parents,  and  all  that ;  and  if  the  man 
only  went  and  reasoned  with  her,  he  would  never  carry  the 
day ;  but  just  as  she  comes  out  of  a  ball-room  some  night, 


248  THREE  FEATHERS 

when  she  is  all  aglow  with  fun  and  pleasure,  and  ready  to 
become  romantic  with  the  stars,  you  see,  and  the  darkness, 
then  just  show  her  a  carriage,  a  pair  of  horses,  a  marriage 
license,  and  her  own  maid  to  accompany  her,  and  see  what 
will  happen  !  Why,  she'll  hop  into  the  carriage  like  a  dicky 
bird  ;  then  she'll  have  a  bit  of  a  cry  ;  and  then  she'll  recover, 
and  be  mad  with  the  delight  of  escaping  from  those  behind 
her.  That's  how  to  win  a  girl,  man  !  The  sweethearts  of 
these  days  think  too  much,  that's  about  it  :  it's  all  done  by 
argument  between  them." 

"  You're  a  wicked  old  woman,  grandmother,"  said  Trelyon, 
with  a  laugh.  "  You  oughtn't  to  put  such  notions  into  the 
head  of  a  well-conducted  young  man  like  me." 

"  Well,  you're  not  such  a  booby  as  you  used  to  be,  Harry," 
the  old  lady  admitted.  "  Your  manners  are  considerably  im- 
proved, and  there  was  much  room  for  improvement.  You're 
growing  a  good  deal  like  your  grandfather." 

"  But  there's  no  Gretna  Green  nowadays,"  said  Trelyon,  as 
he  went  outside,  "  so  you  can't  expect  me  to  be  perfect, 
grandmother." 

On  the  first  night  of  his  arrival  at  Eglosilyan  he  stole  away 
in  the  darkness  down  to  the  inn.  There  were  no  lamps  in 
the  steep  road,  which  was  rendered  all  the  darker  by  the  high 
rocky  bank  with  its  rough  masses  of  foliage  ;  he  feared  that 
by  accident  some  one  might  be  out  and  meet  him.  But  in  the 
absolute  silence,  under  the  stars,  he  made  his  way  down  until 
he  was  near  the  inn ;  and  there,  in  the  black  shadow  of  the 
road,  he  stood  and  looked  at  the  lighted  windows.  Roscorla 
was  doubtless  within — lying  in  an  easy-chair,  probably,  by  the 
fire,  while  Wenna  sang  her  old-fashioned  songs  to  him.  He 
would  assume  the  air  of  being  one  of  the  family  now — only 
holding  himself  a  little  above  the  family.  Perhaps  he  was 
talking  of  the  house  he  meant  to  take  when  he  and  Wenna  mar- 
ried. 

That  was  no  wholesome  food  for  reflection  on  which  this 
young  man's  mind  was  now  feeding.  He  stood  there  in  the 
darkness,  himself  white  as  a  ghost,  while  all  the  vague  imag- 
inings of  what  might  be  going  on  within  the  house  semed  to 
be  eating  at  his  heart.  This,  then,  was  the  comfort  he  had 
found,  by  secretly  stealing  away  from  London  for  a  day 
or  two  ;  he  had  arrived  just  in  time  to  find  his  rival  tri- 
umphant. 

The  private  door  of  the  inn  was  at  this  moment  opened ; 
a  warm  glow  of  yellow  streamed  out  into  the  darkness. 

"  Good-night,"  said  some  one  ;  was  it  Wenna  ? 


A  DARK  CONSPIRACY. 


249 


"  Good-night,"  was  the  answer ;  and  then  the  figure  of  a 
man  passed  down  the  road. 

Trelyon  breathed  more  freely ;  at  last  his  rival  was  out  of 
the  house.  Wenna  was  now  alone  ;  would  she  go  up  into  her 
own  room,  and  think  over  all  the  events  of  the  clay  ?  And 
would  she  remember  that  he  had  come  to  Eglosilyan ;  and 
that  she  could,  if  any  such  feeling  arose  in  her  heart,  summon 
him  at  need  ? 

It  was  very  late  that  night  before  Trelyon  returned — he 
had  gone  all  round  by  the  harbor  and  the  cliffs,  and  the  high- 
lying  church  on  the  hill.  All  in  the  house  had  gone  to  bed ; 
but  there  was  a  fire  burning  in  the  study  ;  and  there  were 
biscuits  and  wine  on  the  table.  A  box  of  cigars  stood  on  the 
mantel-piece. 

Apparently  he  was  in  no  mood  for  the  indolent  comfort 
thus  suggested.  He  stood  for  a  minute  or  two  before  the 
fire,  staring  into  it,  and  seeing  other  things  than  the  flaming 
coals  there ;  then  he  moved  about  the  room,  in  an  impatient 
and  excited  fashion  ;  finally,  with  his  hand  trembling  a  little 
bit,  he  sat  down  and  wrote  this  note  : 

"  Dear  Mother, — 

"  The  horses  and  carriage  will  be  at  Launceston  Station 
by  the  first  train  on  Saturday  morning.  Will  you  please  send 
Jakes  over  for  them  ?     And  bid  him  take  the  horses  up  to 

Mr. 's  stables,  and  have  them  fed,  watered,  and  properly 

rested  before  he  drives  them  over. 

"Your  affectionate  son, 

"  Harry  Trelyon." 

Next  morning,  as  Mabyn  Rosewarne  was  coming  briskly 
up  the  Trevenna  road  carrying  in  her  arms  a  pretty  big  par- 
cel, she  was  startled  by  the  appearance  of  a  young  man,  who 
suddenly  showed  himself  overhead,  and  then  scrambled  down 
the  rocky  bank  until  he  stood  beside  her. 

"  I've  been  watching  for  you  all  the  morning,  Mabyn,"  said 
Trelyon.     "I — I  want  to  speak  to  you.  Where  are  you  going  ? " 

"  Up  to  Mr.  Trewhella's.  You  know  his  granddaughter  is 
very  nearly  quite  well  again  ;  and  there  is  to  be  a  great 
gathering  of  children  there  to-night  to  celebrate  her  recovery. 
This  is  a  cake  I  am  carrying  that  Wenna  has  made  herself." 

"  Is  Wenna  to  be  there  ? "  Trelyon  said,  eagerly. 

il  Why,  of  course,"  said  Mabyn,  petulantly.  "  What  do  you 
think  the  children  could  do  without  her  ?  " 

"Look  here,  Mabyn,"  he  said.     "  I  want  to  speak  to  you 


250  THREE  FEATHERS. 

very  particularly.  Couldn't  you  just  as  well  go  around  by  the 
farm  road  ?     Let  me  carry  your  cake  for  you." 

Mabyn  guessed  what  he  wanted  to  speak  about,  and  will- 
ingly made  the  circuit  by  a  more  private  road  leading  by  one 
of  the  upland  farms.  At  a  certain  point  they  came  to  a  stile  ; 
and  here  they  rested.  So  far  Trelyon  had  said  nothing  of 
consequence. 

'•  Oh,  do  you  know,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  Mabyn  remarked,  quite 
innocently,  "  I  have  been  reading  such  a  nice  book — all  about 
Jamaica." 

"  So  you're  interested  about  Jamaica,  too  ?  M  said  he,  rather 
bitterly. 

"  Yes,  much.  Do  you  know  that  it  is  the  most  fearful 
place  for  storms  in  the  whole  world — the  most  awful  hurri- 
canes that  come  smashing  down  everything  and  killing  people. 
You  can't  escape  if  you're  in  the  way  of  the  hurricane.  It 
whirls  the  roofs  off  the  houses,  and  twists  out  the  plantain- 
trees  just  like  straws.  The  rivers  wash  away  whole  acres  of 
canes  and  swamp  the  farms.  Sometimes  the  sea  rages  so 
that  boats  are  carried  right  up  into  the  streets  of  Kingston. 
There  ! " 

"  But  why  does  that  please  you  ?  " 

"  Why,"  she  said,  with  proud  indignation,  "  the  notion  of 
people  talking  as  if  they  could  go  out  to  Jamaica  and  live 
forever,  and  come  back  just  when  they  please — it  is  too  ridic- 
ulous !  Many  accidents  may  happen.  And  isn't  November 
a  very  bad  time  for  storms  ?  Ships  often  get  wrecked  going 
out  to  the  West  Indies,  don't  they  ?  " 

At  another  time  Trelyon  would  have  laughed  at  this  blood- 
thirsty young  woman  ;  at  this  moment  he  was  too  serious. 

"  Mabyn,"  said  he,  "  I  can't  bear  this  any  longer — stand- 
ing by  like  a  fool  and  looking  on  while  another  man  is  doing 
his  best  to  marry  Wenna :  I  can't  go  on  like  this  any  longer. 
Mabyn,  when  did  you  say  she  would  leave  Mr.  Trewhella's 
house  to-night  ? " 

"  I  did  not  say  anything  about  it.  I  suppose  we  shall  leave 
about  ten  ;  the  young  ones  leave  at  nine." 

"  You  will  be  there  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Wenna  and  I  are  to  keep  orden" 

"  Nobody  else  with  you  ? " 

"  No." 

He  looked  at  her  rather  hesitatingly. 

"  And  supposing,  Mabyn,"  he  said  slowly,  "  supposing  you 
and  Wenna  were  to  leave  at  ten,  and  that  it  is  a  beautiful 
clear  night,  you  might  walk  down  by  the  wood  instead  of  by 


A  DARK  CONSPIRACY.  251 

the  road  ;  and  then,  supposing  that  you  came  out  on  the  road 
down  at  the  foot,  and  you  found  there  a  carriage  and  pair  of 
horses — " 

Mabyn  began  to  look  alarmed. 

"  And  if  I  was  there,"  he  continued,  more  rapidly,  "  and 
I  said  to  Wenna  suddenly,  '  Now,  Wenna,  think  nothing,  but 
come  and  save  yourself  from  this  marriage  !  Here  is  your 
sister  will  come  with  you — and  I  will  drive  you  to  Plym- 
outh—" 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Trelyon  !  "  Mabyn  cried,  with  a  sudden  joy  in 
her  face,  "  she  would  do  it !     She  would  do  it !  " 

"  And  you,  would  you  come  too  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"Yes!"  the  girl  cried,  full  of  excitement.  "And  then, 
Mr.  Trelyon,  and  then  ?  " 

"  Why,"  he  cried  boldly,  "  up  to  London  at  once— twenty- 
four  hours'  start  of  everybody— and  in  London  we  are  safe  I 
Then,  you  know,  Mabyn — " 

"  Yes,  yes,  Mr.  Trelyon  !  " 

"  Don't  you  think  now  that  we  two  could  persuade  her  to  a 
quick  marriage — with  a  special  license,  you  know — you  could 
persuade  her,  I  am  sure,  Mabyn — " 

In  the  gladness  of  her  heart  Mabyn  felt  herself  at  this 
moment  ready  to  fall  on  the  young  man's  neck  and  kiss  him. 
But  she  was  a  properly  conducted  young  person ;  and  so  she 
rose  from  the  big  block  of  slate  on  which  she  had  been  sit- 
ting, and  managed  to  suppress  any  great  intimation  of  her 
abounding  joy.  But  she  was  very  proud,  all  the  same  ;  and 
there  was  a  great  firmness  about  her  lips  as  she  said — 

"  We  will  do  it,  Mr.  Trelyon ;  we  will  do  it.  Do  you  know 
why  Wenna  submits  to  this  engagement  ?  Because  she  rea- 
sons with  her  conscience,  and  persuades  herself  that  it  is 
right.  When  you  meet  her  like  that,  she  will  have  no  time  to 
consider — " 

"That  is  precisely  what  my  grandmother  says,"  Trelyon 
said,  with  a  triumphant  laugh. 

"Yes,  she  was  a  girl  once,"  Mabyn  replied,  sagely. 
"Well,  well,  tell  me  all  about  it!  Wrhat  arrangements  have 
you  made  ?     You  haven't  got  the  special  license  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  he,  "  I  didn't  make  up  my  mind  to  try  this  on 
till  last  night.  But  the  difference  cf  a  day  is  nothing,  when 
you  are  with  her.  We  shall  be  able  to  hide  ourselves  away- 
pretty  well  in  London,  don't  you  think  ?  " 

"Of  course!"  cried  Mabyn,  confidently.  "But  tell  me 
more,  Mr.  Trelyon  !  What  have  you  arranged  ?  What  have 
you  done  ?  " 


252  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

"What  could  I  do  until  I  knew  whether  you'd  help  me  ? " 

"  You  must  bring  a  fearful  amount  of  wraps  with  you." 

"  Certainly — more  than  you'll  want,  I  know.  And  I  sha'n't 
light  the  lamps  until  I  hear  you  coming  along;  for  they 
would  attract  attention  down  in  the  valley.  I  should  like  to 
wait  for  you  elsewhere  ;  but  if  I  did  that  you  couldn't  get 
Wenna  to  come  with  you.  Do  you  think  you  will  even 
then?" 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Mabyn,  cheerfully.  "  Nothing  easier  !  I 
shall  tell  her  she's  afraid ;  and  then  she  would  walk  down 
the  face  of  Black  Cliff.  By  the  way,  Mr.  Trelyon,  I  must 
bring  something  to  eat  with  me,  and  some  wine — she  will  be 
so  nervous — and  the  long  journey  will  tire  her." 

"  You  will  be  at  Mr.  Trewhella's,  Mabyn ;  you  can't  go 
carrying  things  about  with  you  ! " 

"  I  could  bring  a  bit  of  cake  in  my  pocket,"  Mabyn 
suggested ;  but  this  seemed  even  to  her  so  ludicrous  that 
she  blushed  and  laughed,  and  agreed  that  Mr.  Trelyon 
should  bring  the  necessary  provisions  for  the  wild  night-ride 
to  Plymouth. 

"  Oh,  it  does  so  please  me  to  think  of  it !  "  she  said  with  a 
curious  anxious  excitement  as  well  as  gladness  in  her  face  ; 
"I  hope  I  have  not  forgotten  to  arrange  anything.  Let  me 
see — we  start  at  ten ;  then  down  through  the  wood  to  the 
road  in  the  hollow — oh,  I  hope  there  will  be  nobody  coming 
along  just  then  ! — then  you  light  the  lamps — then  you  come 
forward  to  persuade  Wenna — by  the  way,  Mr.  Trelyon,  where 
must  I  go  ?     Shall  I  not  be  dreadfully  in  the  way  ?  " 

"You  ?  You  must  stand  by  the  horses'  heads  !  I  sha'n't 
have  my  man  with  me.  And  yet  they're  not  very  fiery  ani- 
mals— they'll  be  less  fiery,  the  unfortunate  wretches,  when 
they  get  to  Plymouth." 

"  At  what  time  ?  " 

"  About  half-past  three  in  the  morning,  if  we  go  straight 
on,"  said  he. 

"  Do  you  know  a  good  hotel  there  ? "  said  the  practical 
Mabyn. 

"  The  best  one  is  by  the  station  ;  but  if  you  sleep  in  the 
front  of  the  house,  you  have  the  whistling  of  engines  all 
night  long,  and  if  you  sleep  in  the  back,  you  overlook  a  bar- 
racks, and  the  confounded  trumpeting  begins  about  four 
o'clock,  I  think." 

"Wenna  and  I  won't  mind  that — we  shall  be  too  tired," 
Mabyn  said.  "  Do  you  think  they  could  give  us  a  little  hot 
coffee  when  we  arrive  ?  " 


A  DARK  CONSPIRACY. 


253 


"  Oh  yes  !  I'll  give  the  night-porter  a  sovereign  a  cup — 
then  he'll  offer  to  bring  it  to  you  in  buckets.  Now  don't  you 
think  the  whole  thing  is  beautifully  arranged,  Mabyn  ?  " 

"  It  is  quite  lovely !  "  the  girl  said  joyously,  "  for  we  shall 
be  off  with  the  morning  train  to  London,  while  Mr.  Roscorla 
is  pottering  about  Launceston  Station  at  mid-day  !  "  Then 
we  must  send  a  telegram  from  Plymouth,  a  fine  dramatic 
telegram ;  and  my  father,  he  will  swear  a  little,  but  be  quite 
content,  and  my  mother — do  you  know,  Mr.  Trelyon,  I  believe 
my  mother  will  be  as  glad  as  anybody  !  What  shall  we 
say  ? — '  To  Mr.  JRosewarne,  Eglosilyan.  We  have  fled.  Not 
the  least  good  pursuing  us.  May  as  well  make  up  your  mind 
to  the  inevitable.  Will  write  to-morrow?  Is  that  more  than 
the  twenty  words  for  a  shilling  ?  " 

"  We  sha'n't  grudge  the  other  shilling  if  it  is,"  the  young 
man  said.  "  Now  you  must  go  on  with  your  cake,  Mabyn. 
I  am  off  to  see  after  the  horses'  shoes.  Mind,  as  soon  after 
ten  as  you  can — just  where  the  path  from  the  wood  comes 
into  the  main  road." 

Then  she  hesitated,  and  for  a  second  or  two  she  remained 
thoughtful  and  silent ;  while  he  was  inwardly  hoping  that  she 
was  not  going  to  draw  back.  Suddenly  she  looked  up  at 
him,  with  earnest  and  anxious  eyes. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said,  "  this  is  a  very  serious  thing. 
You — you  will  be  kind  to  our  Wenna  after  she  is  married  to 
you?" 

"  You  will  see,  Mabyn,"  he  answered,  gently. 

"  You  don't  know  how  sensitive  she  is,"  she  continued, 
apparently  thinking  over  all  the  possibilities  of  the  future  in 
a  much  graver  fashion  than  she  had  done,  "  If  you  were 
unkind  to  her,  it  would  kill  her.  Are  you  quite  sure  you 
won't  regret  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  am  quite  sure  of  that,"  said  he,  "  as  sure  as  a  man 
may  be.  I  don't  think  you  need  fear  my  being  unkind  to 
Wenna.     Why,  what  has  put  such  thoughts  into  your  head  ? ,: 

"  If  you  were  to  be  cruel  to  her  or  indifferent,"  she  said, 
slowly  and  absently,  "I  know  that  would  kill  her.  But  I 
know  more  than  that.     I  would  kill  you" 

"  Mabyn,"  he  said,  quite  startled,  "  whatever  has  put  such 
thoughts  into  your  head  ?  " 

"  Why,"  she  said,  passionately,  "  haven't  I  seen  already 
how  a  man  can  treat  her  ?  Haven't  I  read  the  insolent  let- 
ters he  has  sent  her  ?  Haven't  I  seen  her  throw  herself  on 
her  bed,  beside  herself  with  grief  ?  And — and — these  are 
things  I  don't  forget,  Mr.  Trelyon.     No,  I  have  got  a  word 


254  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

to  say  to  Mr.  Roscorla  yet  for  his  treatment  of  my  sister — 
and  I  will  say  it.     And  then — " 

The  proud  lips  were  beginning  to  quiver. 

"  Come,  come,  Mabyn,"  said  Trelyon,  gently,  "  don't  imag- 
ine all  men  are  the  same.  And  perhaps  Roscorla  will  have 
been  paid  out  quite  sufficiently  when  he  hears  of  to-night's 
work.  I  sha'n't  bear  him  any  malice  after  that,  I  know. 
Already,  I  confess,  I  feel  a  good  deal  of  compunction  as  re- 
gards him." 

"I  don't  at  all — I  don't  a  bit,"  said  Mabyn,  who  very 
quickly  recovered  herself  whenever  Mr.  Roscorla's  name  was 
mentioned.  "  If  you  can  only  get  her  to  go  away  with  you, 
Mr.  Trelyon,  it  will  serve  him  just  right.  Indeed,  it  is  on 
his  account  that  I  hope  you  will  be  successful.  I — I  don't  quite 
like  Wenna  running  away  with  you,  to  tell  you  the  truth — I 
would  rather  have  her  left  to  a  quiet  decision,  and  to  a  mar- 
riage with  everybody  approving.  But  there  is  no  chance  of 
that.     This  is  the  only  thing  that  will  save  her." 

"  That  is  precisely  what  I  said  to  you,"  Trelyon  said, 
eagerly,  for  he  was  afraid  of  losing  so  invaluable  an  ally. 

"  And  you  will  be  very,  very  kind  to  her  ?  " 

"I'm  not  good  at  fine  words,  Mabyn.     You'll  see." 

She  held  out  her  hand  to  him,  and  pressed  his  warmly. 

"  I  believe  you  will  be  a  good  husband  to  her  ;  and  I  know 
you  will  get  the  best  wife  in  the  whole  world  ! " 

She  was  going  away  when  he  suddenly  said — 

"  Mabyn  \ " 

She  turned. 

"Do  you  know,"  said  he,  rather  shamefacedly,  "how 
much  I  am  grateful  to  you  for  all  your  frank  straightforward 
kindness — and  your  help — and  your  courage — " 

"  No,  no  \  "  said  the  young  girl,  good-humoredly.  "  You 
make  Wenna  happy,  and  don't  consider  me  1 " 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

UNDER    THE   WHITE    STARS. 


During  the  whole  glad  evening  Wenna  had  been  Queen 
of  the  Feast,  and  her  subjects  had  obeyed  her  with  a  joyous 
submission.  They  did  not  take  quite  so  kindly  to  Mabyn, 
for  she  was  sharp  of  tongue  and  imperious  in  her  ways  ;  but 
they  knew  that  they  could  tease  her  elder  sister  with  impu- 


UNDER  THE  WHITE  STARS.  255 

nity — always  up  to  the  well-understood  line  at  which  her  au- 
thority began.     That  was  never  questioned. 

Then,  at  nine  o'clock,  the  servants  came,  some  on  foot  and 
some  in  dog-carts  ;  and  presently  there  was  a  bundling  up  of 
tiny  figures  in  rugs  and  wraps,  and  Wenna  stood  at  the  door 
to  kiss  each  of  them  and  say  good-bye.  It  was  half-past 
nine  when  that  performance  was  over. 

"Now,  my  dear  Miss  Wenna,"  said  the  old  clergyman, you 
must  be  quite  tired  out  with  your  labors.  Come  into  the 
study — I  believe  the  tray  has  been  taken  in  there." 

"  Do  you  know,  Mr.  Trewhella,"  said  Mabyn  boldly,  "  that 
Wenna  hadn't  time  to  eat  a  single  bit  when  all  those  children 
were  gobbling  up  cake.  Couldn't  you  let  her  have  a  little 
bit — a  little  bit  of  cold  meat  now — " 

"  Dear,  dear  me  !  "  said  the  kind  old  gentleman,  in  the 
deepest  distress,  "  that  I  should  not  have  remembered  ! " 

There  was  no  use  in  Wenna  protesting.  In  the  snug  little 
study  she  was  made  to  eat  some  supper ;  and  if  she  got  off 
with  drinking  one  glass  of  sherry  it  was  not  through  the  in- 
tervention of  her  sister,  who  apparently  would  have  had  her 
drink  a  tumblerful. 

It  was  not  until  a  quarter  past  ten  that  the  girls  could  get 
away. 

"  Now  I  must  see  you  young  ladies  down  to  the  village,  lest 
some  one  should  run  away  with  you,"  the  old  clergyman  said, 
taking  down  his  top-coat. 

"  Oh  no,  you  must  not — you  must  not,  indeed,  Mr.  Trew- 
hella !  "  Mabyn  said,  anxiously.  "  Wenna  and  I  always  go 
about  by  ourselves — and  far  later  than  this  too.  It  is  a  beau- 
tiful, clear  night !     Why — " 

Her  impetuosity  made  her  sister  smile. 

"You  talk  as  if  you  would  rather  like  to  be  run  away  with, 
Mabyn,"  she  said.  "  But  indeed,  Mr.  Trewhella,  you  must 
not  think  of  coming  with  us.  It  is  quite  true  what  Mabyn 
says." 

And  so  they  went  out  into  the  clear  darkness  together ;  and 
the  door  was  shut ;  and  they  found  themselves  in  the  silent 
world  of  the  night-time,  with  the  white  stars  throbbing  over- 
head. Far  away  in  the  distance  they  could  hear  the  murmur 
of  the  sea. 

"  Are  you  cold,  Mabyn,  that  you  tremble  so  ? "  said  the  elder 
sister. 

«  No — only  a  sort  of  shiver  in  coming  out  into  the  night 
air." 


256  THREE  FEATHERS. 

Whatever  it  was  it  was  soon  over.  Mabyn  seemed  to  be 
unusually  cheerful. 

"  Wenna,"  she  said,  "  you're  afraid  of  ghosts  ?" 

"  No,  I'm  not." 

"I  know  you  are." 

"  I'm  not  half  as  much  afraid  of  ghosts  as  you  are,  that's 
quite  certain." 

"  I  bet  you  you  won't  walk  down  through  the  wood." 

"  Just  now  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Why,  I'll  not  only  go  down  through  the  wood,  but  I'll  un- 
dertake to  be  home  before  you,  though  you've  a  broad  road 
to  guide  you." 

•*  But  I  did  not  mean  you  to  go  alone." 

"  Oh,"  said  Wenna,  "  you  propose  to  come  with  me  ?  Then 
it  is  you  who  are  afraid  to  go  down  by  yourself  ?    Oh,  Mabyn  ! " 

"Never  mind,  Wenna — let's  go  down  through  the  wood 
just  for  fun." 

So  the  two  sisters  set  out,  arm-in-arm  ;  and  through  some 
spirit  of  mischief  Wenna  would  not  speak  a  word.  Mabyn 
was  gradually  overawed  by  the  silence,  the  night,  the  loneli- 
ness of  the  road,  and  the  solemn  presence  of  the  great  living 
vault  above  them.  Moreover,  before  getting  into  the  wood, 
they  had  to  skirt  a  curious  little  dingle,  in  the  hollow  of  which 
are  both  a  church  and  churchyard.  Many  a  time  the  sisters 
had  come  up  to  this  romantic  dell  in  the  spring-time,  to  gather 
splendid  primroses,  sweet  violets,  the  yellow  celandine,  and 
other  wild  flowers  that  grow  luxuriantly  on  its  steep  banks ; 
and  very  pretty  the  old  church  looked  then,  with  the  clear 
sunshine  of  April  streaming  down  through  the  scantily  leaved 
trees  into  this  sequestered  spot.  Now  the  deep  hole  was 
black  as  night ;  and  they  could  only  make  out  a  bit  of  the 
spire  of  the  church  as  it  appeared  against  the  dark  sky.  Nay, 
was  there  not  a  sound  among  the  fallen  leaves  and  under- 
wood down  there,  in  the  direction  of  the  unseen  graves  ? 

"  Some  cow  has  strayed  in  there,  I  believe,"  said  Mabyn, 
in  a  somewhat  low  voice  ;  and  she  walked  rather  quickly  un- 
til they  got  past  the  place  and  out  on  the  hill  over  the  wooded 
valley. 

"  Now,"  said  Wenna,  cheerfully,  not  wishing  to  have  Mabyn 
put  in  a  real  fright,  "  as  we  go  down  I  am  going  to  tell  you 
something,  Mabyn.  How  would  you  like  to  have  to  prepare 
for  a  wedding  in  a  fortnight  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all !  "  said  Mabyn  promptly,  even  fiercely. 

"  Not  if  it  was  Your  own  ?  " 


UNDER  THE  WHITE  STARS.  257 

«  N0_why,  the  insult  of  such  a  request  I " 
According  to  Mabyn's  way  of  thinking  it  was  an  insult  to 
ask  a  girl  to  marry  you  in  a  fortnight,  but  none  to  insist  on 
her  marrying  you  the  day  after  to-morrow. 

"  You  think  that  a  girl  could  fairly  plead  that  as  an  excuse 
—the  mere  time  to  get  one's  dresses  and  things  ready  ?  " 
"Certainly!"  .  • 

"  Oh,  Mabyn,"  said  Wenna,  far  more  seriously,  it  is  not 
of  dresses  I  am  thinking  at  all ;  but  I  shudder  to  think  of  get- 
ting married  just  now.  I  could  not  do  it.  I  have  not  had 
enough  time  to  forget  what  is  past— and  until  that  is  done, 
how  could  I  marry  any  man  ?  " 

"Wenna,  I  do  love  you  when  you  talk  like  that?  ner 
sister  cried.  "  You  can  be  so  wise  and  reasonable  when  you 
choose  !  Of  course  you  are  quite  right,  dear.  But  you  don't 
mean  to  say  he  wants  you  to  get  married  before  he  goes  to 
Jamaica,  and  then  to  leave  you  alone  ?  " 

"  Oh  no.     He  wants  me  to  go  with  him  to  Jamaica. 
Mabyn  uttered  a  short  cry  of  alarm. 

"  To  Jamaica  !  To  take  you  away  from  the  whole  of  us — 
why— oh,  Wenna,  I  do  hate  being  a  girl  so— for  you're  not 
allowed  to  swear — if  I  were  a  man  now  !  To  Jamaica  !  Why 
don't  you  know  that  there  are  hundreds  of  people  always 
being  killed  there  by  the  most  frightful  hurricanes  and  earth- 
quakes, and  large  serpents  in  the  woods  ?  To  Jamaica  ?— 
no,  you  are  not  going  to  Jamaica  just  yet  1  I  don't  think 
you  are  going  to  Jamaica  just  yet ! " 

<•  No,  indeed,  I  am  not,"  said  Wenna,  with  a  quiet  decision. 
"  Nor  could  I  think  of  getting  married  in  any  case  at  present. 
But  then— don't  you  see,    Mabyn— Mr.  Roscorla  is   just  a 
little  peculiar  in  some  ways — " 
"  Yes,  certainly." 

« And  he  likes  to  have  a  definite  reason  for  what  you  do. 

If  I  were  to  tell  him  of  the  repugnance  I  have  to  the  notion 
of  getting  married  just  now,  he  would  call  it  mere  sentiment, 
and  try  to  argue  me  out  of  it — then  we  should  have  a  quarrel. 
But  if,  as  you  say,  a  girl  may  fairly  refuse  in  point  of  time — " 
"  Now,  I'll  tell  you,"  said  Mabyn,  plainly ;  "  no  girl  can 
get  married  properly  who  hasn't  six  months  to  get  ready  in. 
She  might  manage  in  three  or  four  months,  for  a  man  she  was 
particularly  fond  of ;  but  if  it  is  a  mere  stranger— and  a  disa- 
greeable person— and  one  who  ought  not  to  marry  her  at  all 
—then  six  months  is  the  very  shortest  time.  Just  you  send 
Mr.  Roscorla  to  me,  and  I'll  tell  him  all  about  it." 
Wenna  laughed. 


258  THREE  FEATHERS. 

"  Yes,  I've  no  doubt  you  would.  I  think  he's  more  afraid 
of  you  than  all  the  serpents  and  snakes  in  Jamaica." 

"  Yes,  and  he'll  have  more  cause  to  be  before  he's  much 
older,"  said  Mabyn,  confidently. 

They  could  not  continue  their  conversation  just  then,  for 
they  were  going  down  the  side  of  the  hill,  between  short  trees 
and  bushes ;  and  the  path  was  broad  enough  only  for  one, 
while  there  were  many  dark  places  demanding  caution. 

"  Seen  any  ghosts  yet  ?  "  Wenna  called  out  to  Mabyn,  who 
was  behind  her. 

"Ghosts,  sir?  Ay,  ay,  sir!  Heave  away  on  the  larboard 
beam  !     I  say,  Wenna,  isn't  it  uncommon  dark  ? " 

"  It  is  uncommonly  dark." 

"  Gentlemen  always  say  uncommon  ;  and  all  the  grammars 
are  written  by  gentlemen.  Oh,  Wenna,  wait  a  bit ;  I've  lost 
my  brooch ! " 

It  was  no  ruse,  for  a  wonder;  the  brooch  had,  indeed, 
dropped  out  of  her  shawl.  She  felt  all  over  the  dark  ground 
for  it,  but  her  search  was  in  vain. 

"  Well,  here's  a  nice  thing  !     Upon  my — " 

"  Mabyn  !  " 

"  Upon  my — trotting  pony ;  that  was  all  I  was  going  to  say. 
Wenna,  will  you  stay  here  for  a  minute,  and  I'll  run  down  to 
the  foot  of  the  hill  and  get  a  match  ?" 

"  How  can  you  get  a  match  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  ?  You'll 
have  to  go  on  to  the  inn.  No,  tie  you  handkerchief  around 
the  foot  of  one  of  the  trees,  and  come  up  early  in  the  morning 
to  look." 

"  Early  in  the  morning  ?  "  said  Mabyn.  "  I  hope  to  be  in 
— I  mean  asleep  then." 

Twice  she  had  nearly  blurted  out  the  secret;  and  it  is 
highly  probable  that  her  refusal  to  adopt  Wenna's  suggestion 
would  have  led  her  sister  to  suspect  something,  had  not 
Wenna  herself,  by  accident,  kicked  against  the  missing  brooch. 
As  it  was,  the  time  lost  by  this  misadventure  was  grievous  to 
Mabyn,  who  now  insisted  on  leading  the  way,  and  went  along 
through  the  bushes  at  a  rattling  pace.  Here  and  there  the 
belated  wanderers  startled  a  blackbird,  that  went  shrieking 
its  fright  over  to  the  other  side  of  the  valley ;  but  Mabyn 
was  now  too  much  preoccupied  to  be  unnerved. 

"  Keeping  a  look-out  ahead  ?  "  Wenna  called. 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir  !  No  ghosts  on  the  weather  quarter  !  Ship 
drawing  twenty  fathoms,  and  the  mate  fast  asleep.  Oh, 
Wenna,  my  hat !  " 

It  had  been  twitched  off  her  head  by  one  of  the  branches 


UNDER  THE  WHITE  STARS.  259 

of  the  young  trees  through  which  she  was  passing,  and  the 
pliant  bit  of  wood,  being  released  from  the  strain,  had  thrown 
it  down  into  the  dark  bushes  and  briers. 

"  Well,  I'm — no,  I'm  not !  "  said  Mabyn,  as  she  picked  out 
the  hat  from  among  the  thorns,  and  straightened  the  twisted 
feather.  Then  she  set  out  again,  impatient  over  these  delays  ; 
and  yet  determined  not  to  let  her  courage  sink. 

"  Land  ahead  yet  ?  "  called  out  Wenna. 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir !  and  the  Lizard  on  our  lee  !  Wind  S.S.W., 
and  the  cargo  shifting  a  point  to  the  east.     Hurrah  ! " 

"  Mabyn,  they'll  hear  you  a  mile  off !  " 

It  was  certainly  Mabyn's  intention  that  she  should  be  heard 
at  least  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off,  for  now  they  had  got  down  to 
the  open,  and  they  could  hear  the  stream  some  way  ahead  of 
them  which  they  would  have  to  cross.  At  this  point  Mabyn 
paused  for  a  second  to  let  her  sister  overtake  her ;  then  they 
went  on  arm-in-arm. 

"  Oh,  Wenna,"  she  said,  "  do  you  remember  '  young Lochin- 
vaS  f  " 

"Of  course!" 

"  Didn't  you  fall  in  love  with  him  when  you  read  about  him  ? 
Now,  there  was  somebody  to  fall  in  love  with  !  Don't  you  re- 
member, when  he  came  into  Netherby  Hall,  that 

'  The  bride-maidens  whispered,  "  'Twere  better  by  far 

To  have  matched  our  fair  cousin  with  young  Lochinvar  "  ? ' 

And  then  you  know,  Wenna — 

'  One  touch  to  her  hand,  and  one  word  in  her  ear, 

When  they  reached  the  hall-door,  and  the  charger  stood  near ; 

So  light  to  the  croup  the  fair  lady  he  swung, 

So  light   to  the  saddle  before  her  he  sprung  ! 

"  She  is  won  !  we  are  gone — over  bank,  bush,  and  scaur ! 

They'll  have  fleet  steeds  that  follow,"  quoth  young  Lochinvar.' 

That  was  a  lover  now  !  " 

"I  think  he  was  a  most  impertinent  young  man,"  said 
Wenna. 

"  I  rather  like  a  young  man  to  be  impertinent,"  said  Mabyn, 
boldly. 

"Then  there  won't  be  any  difficulty  about  fitting  you  with 
a  husband,"  said  Wenna,  with  a  light  laugh. 

Here  Mabyn  once  more  went  on  ahead,  picking  her  steps 
through  the  damp  grass  as  she  made  her  way  down  to  the 
stream.     Wenna  was  still  in  the  highest  of  spirits, 

"  Walking  the  plank  yet,  boatswain  ?  "  she  called  out. 


2<5o  THREE  FEA  THERS.    n 

"  Not  yet,  sir,''  Mabyn  called  in  return.  "  Ship  wearing 
round  on  the  leeward  tack,  and  the  waves  running  mountains 
high.     Don't  you  hear  'em,  captain  ?  " 

"  Look  out  for  the  breakers,  boatswain  !  " 

u  Ay,  ay,  sir  !  All  hands  on  deck  to  man  the  captain's  gig ! 
Belay  away  there !  Avast !  Mind,  Wenna !  here's  the 
bridge  ! " 

Crossing  over  that  single  plank,  in  the  dead  of  the  night, 
was  a  sufficiently  dangerous  experiment ;  but  both  these 
young  ladies  had  had  plenty  of  experience  in  keeping  their 
wits  about  them  in  more  perilous  places. 

"  Why  are  you  in  such  a  hurry,  Mabyn  ?  "  Wenna  said, 
when  they  had  crossed. 

Mabyn  did  not  know  what  to  answer ;  she  was  very  much 
excited,  and  inclined  to  talk  at  random  merely  to  cover  her 
anxiety.  She  was  now  very  late  for  the  appointment,  and 
who  could  tell  what  unfortunate  misadventure  Harry  Trelyon 
might  have  met  with  ? 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  she  said.  "  Why  don't  you  admire 
young  Lochinvar  ?     Wenna.  you're  like  the  Lacedaemons." 

"  Like  the  what  ? " 

"  Like  the  Lacedaemons,  that  were  neither  cold  nor  hot. 
Why  don't  you  admire  young  Lochinvar  ?  " 

"  Because  he  was  interfering  with  another  man's  property." 

"  That  man  had  no  right  to  her,"  said  Mabyn,  talking  rather 
wildly,  and  looking  on  ahead  to  the  point  at  which  the  path 
through  the  meadows  went  up  the  road — "he  was  a  wretched 
animal,  I  know;  I  believe  he  was  a  sugar-broker,  and  had 
just  come  home  from  Jamaica." 

"  I  believe,"  said  Wenna — "  I  believe  that  young  Lochin- 
var—" 

She  stopped. 

"  What's  that  ?  "  she  said.  "  What  are  those  two  lights  up 
there  ? " 

"  They're  riot  ghosts  :  come  along,  Wenna !  "  said  Mabyn, 
hurriedly. 

Let  us  go  up  to  this  road,  where  Harry  Trelyon,  tortured 
with  anxiety  and  impatience,  is  waiting.  He  had  slipped 
away  from  the  house  pretty  nearly  as  soon  as  the  gentlemen 
had  gone  into  the  drawing-room  after  dinner,  and  on  some 
excuse  or  other  had  got  the  horses  put  to  a  light  and  yet 
roomy  Stanhope  phaeton.  From  the  stable-yard  he  drove  by 
a  back  way  into  the  main  road  without  passing  in  front  of 
the  Hall ;  then  he  quietly  walked  the  horses  down  the  steep 


UNDER  THE  WHITE  STARS.  261 

hill,  and  around  the  foot  of  the  valley  to  the  point  at  which 
Mabyn  was  to  make  her  appearance. 

But  he  dared  not  stop  there  ;  for  now  and  again  some  pas- 
ser-by came  along  the  road ;  and  even  in  the  darkness  Mrs. 
Trelyon's  gray  horses  would  be  recognized  by  any  of  the  in- 
habitants of  Eglosilyan,  who  would  naturally  wonder  what 
Master  Harry  was  waiting  for.  He  walked  them  a  few  hun- 
dred yards  one  way,  then  a  few  hundred  yards  the  other ;  and 
ever,  as  it  seemed  to  him,  the  danger  was  growing  greater  of 
some  one  from  the  inn  or  from  the  Hall  suddenly  appearing 
and  spoiling  the  whole  plan. 

Half-past  ten  arrived ;  and  nothing  could  be  heard  from 
the  girls.  Then  a  horrible  thought  struck  him  that  Roscorla 
might  by  this  time  have  left  the  Hall ;  and  would  he  not  be 
coming  down  to  this  very  road  on  his  way  up  to  Basset  Cottage  ? 
This  was  no  idle  fear ;  it  was  almost  a  matter  of  certainty. 

The  minutes  rolled  themselves  out  into  ages ;  he  kept 
looking  at  his  watch  every  few  seconds ;  yet  he  could  hear 
nothing  from  the  wood  or  the  valley  of  Mabyn's  approach. 
Then  he  got  down  into  the  road,  walked  a  few  yards  this 
way  and  that,  apparently  to  stamp  the  nervousness  out  of  his 
system,  patted  the  horses,  and,  finally,  occupied  himself  in 
lighting  the  lamps.  He  was  driven  by  the  delay  into  a  sort 
of  desperation.  Even  if  Wenna  and  Mabyn  did  appear  now, 
and  if  he  were  successful  in  his  prayer,  there  was  every  chance 
of  their  being  interrupted  by  Roscorla,  who  had  without 
doubt  left  the  Hall  sometime  before. 

Suddenly  he  stopped  in  his  excited  walking  up  and  down. 
Was  that  a  faint  "  Hurrah  !  "  that  he  heard  in  the  distance  ? 
He  went  down  to  the  stile  at  the  junction  of  the  path  and 
the  road,  and  listened  attentively.  Yes,  he  he  could  hear  at 
least  one  voice,  as  yet  a  long  way  off ;  but  now  he  had  no 
more  doubt.     He  walked  quickly  back  to  the  carriage. 

"  Ho,  ho,  my  hearties  !  "  he  said,  stroking  the  heads  of  the 
horses,  "you'll  have  a  Dick  Turpin's  ride  to-night." 

All  the  nervousness  had  gone  from  him  now ;  he  was  full 
of  a  strange  sort  of  exultation — the  joy  of  a  man  who  feels 
that  the  crisis  in  his  life  has  come,  and  that  he  has  the  power 
and  courage  to  face  it. 

He  heard  them  come  up  from  the  meadow  to  the  stile ;  it 
was  Wenna  who  was  talking ;  Mabyn  was  quite  silent.  They 
came  along  the  road. 

"  What  is  this  carriage  doing  here  ?  "  Wenna  said. 

They  drew  still  nearer. 

"  They  are  Mrs.  Trelyon's  horses,  and  there  is  no  driver — " 


262  THREE  FEATHERS. 

At  this  moment  Harry  Trelyon  came  quickly  forward  and 
stood  in  the  road  before  her;  while  Mabyn  as  quickly  went 
on  and  disappeared.  The  girl  was  startled,  bewildered,  but 
not  frightened  ;  for  in  a  second  he  had  taken  her  by  the  hand, 
and  then  she  heard  him  say  to  her,  in  anxious,  low,  implor- 
ing voice— 

"  Wenna,  my  darling,  don't  be  alarmed  !  See  here,  I  have 
got  everthing  ready  to  take  you  away — and  Mabyn  is  coming 
with  us — and  you  know  I  love  you  so  that  I  can't  bear  the 
notion  of  your  falling  into  that  man's  hands.  Now,  Wenna, 
don't  think  about  it !  Come  with  me  !  We  shall  be  married 
in  London — Mabyn  is  coining  with  you — " 

For  one  brief  second  or  two  she  seemed  stunned  and 
alarmed;  then,  looking  at  the  carriage,  and  the  earnest  sup- 
pliant before  her,  the  whole  truth  appeared  to  flash  in  upon 
her.     She  looked  wildly  around. 

"  Mabyn — "  she  was  about  to  say,  when  he  guessed  the 
meaning  of  her  rapid  look. 

"  Mabyn  is  here.  She  is  quite  close  by — she  is  coming 
with  us.  My  darling,  won't  you  let  me  save  you  !  This  in- 
deed is  our  last  chance.     Wenna  ! — " 

She  was  trembling  so  that  he  thought  she  would  fall ;  and 
he  would  have  put  his  arms  around  her,  but  that  she  drew 
back,  and  in  so  doing  she  got  into  the  light,  and  then  he  saw 
the  immeasurable  pity  and  sadness  of  her  eyes. 

"Oh,  my  love,"  she  said,  with  the  tears  running  down  her 
face,  "  I  love  you  !  I  will  tell  you  that  now,  when  we  speak 
for  the  last  time.  See,  I  will  kiss  you — and  then  you  will  go 
away — " 

"  I  will  not  go  away — not  without  you — this  night.  Wenna, 
dearest,  you  have  let  your  heart  speak  at  last — now  let  it  tell 
what  to  do  !  " 

"  Oh,  must  I  go  ?  Must  I  go  ?  "  she  said ;  and  then  she 
looked  wildly  around  again. 

"  Mabyn  ! "  called  out  Trelyon,  half  mad  with  joy  and 
triumph,  "  Mabyn,  come  along !  Look  sharp,  jump  in  !  This 
way,  my  darling  !  " 

And  he  took  the  trembling  girl,  and  half  lifted  her  into  tht 
carriage. 

"  Oh,  my  love,  what  am  I  doing  for  you  this  night !  "  she  said 
to  him,  with  her  eyes  swimming  in  tears. 

But  what  was  the  matter  with  Mabyn  ?  She  was  just  put- 
ting her  foot  on  the  iron  step  when  a  rapidly  approaching  fig- 
ure caused  her  to  utter  a  cry  of  alarm,  and  she  stumbled  back 
into  the  road  again.     The  very  accident  that  Trelyon  had 


INTO  CAPTIVITY.  263 

been  anticipating  had  occurred ;  here  was  Mr.  Roscorla,  be- 
wildered at  first,  and  then  blind  with  rage  when  he  saw  what 
was  happening  before  his  eyes.  In  his  desperation  and  an- 
ger he  was  about  to  lay  hold  of  Mabyn  by  the  arm  when  he 
was  sent  staggering  backwards  half-a-dozen  yards. 

"  Don't  interfere  with  me  now,  or  by  God  I  will  kill  you ! " 
Trelyon  said,  between  his  teeth  ;  and  then  he  hurried  Mabyn 
into  the  carriage. 

What  was  the  sound  then  that  the  still  woods  heard,  under 
the  throbbing  stars,  through  the  darkness  that  lay  over  the 
land  ?  Only  the  sound  of  horses'  feet,  monotonous  and  regu- 
lar, and  not  a  word  of  joy  or  sorrow  uttered  by  any  one  of  the 
party  thus  hurrying  on  through  the  night. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

INTO    CAPTIVITY. 

Towards  eleven  o'clock  that  night  Mrs.  Rosewarne  became 
a  little  anxious  about  her  girls,  and  asked  her  husband  to  go 
and  meet  them,  or  to  fetch  them  away  if  they  were  still  at  Mr. 
Trewhella's  house. 

"  Can't  they  look  after  themselves  ? "  said  George  Rose- 
warne. "  I'll  be  bound  Mabyn  can,  anyway.  Let  her  alone 
to  come  back  when  she  pleases." 

Then  his  wife  began  to  fret ;  and,  as  this  made  him  uncom- 
fortable, he  said  he  would  walk  up  the  road  and  meet  them. 
He  had  no  intention  of  doing  so,  of  course ;  but  it  was  a  good 
excuse  for  getting  away  from  a  fidgety  wife.  He  went  out- 
side into  the  clear  starlight,  and  lounged  down  to  the  small 
bridge  beside  the  mill,  contentedly  smoking  his  pipe. 

There  he  encountered  a  farmer  who  was  riding  home  a  cob 
he  had  bought  that  day  at  Launceston ;  and  the  farmer  and 
he  began  to  have  a  chat  about  horses  suggested  by  that  cir- 
cumstance. Oddly  enough,  their  random  talk  came  round  to 
young  Trelyon. 

"Your  thoroughbreds  won't  do  for  this  county,"  George 
Rosewarne  was  saying,  "  to  go  flying  a  stone  wall  and  break- 
ing your  neck.  No,  sir !  I'll  tell  you  what  sort  of  hunter  I 
should  like  to  have  for  these  parts.  I'd  have  him  half-bred, 
short  in  the  leg,  short  in  the  pastern,  short  in  the  back,  a  good 
sloping  shoulder,  broad  in  the  chest  and  the  forehead,  long 
in  the  belly,  and  iust  the  least  bit  over  fifteen  hands — eh  1 


264  THREE  FEATHERS. 

Mr.  Thorns  ?  I  don't  think  beauty's  of  much  consequence 
when  your  neck's  in  question.  Let  him  be  as  angular  and 
ragged  in  the  hips  as  you  like,  so  long's  his  ribs  are  well  up 
to  the  hip-bone.  Have  you  seen  that  black  horse  that  young 
Trelyon  rides  ? " 

"  Tis  a  noble  beast,  sir — a  noble  beast,"  the  farmer  said ; 
and  he  would  probably  have  gone  on  to  state  what  ideal  ani- 
mal had  been  constructed  by  his  lavish  imagination  had  not 
a  man  come  running  up  at  this  moment,  breathless  and  al- 
most speechless. 

"  Rosewarne,"  stammered  Mr.  Roscorla,  "  a — a  word  with 
you  !  I  want  to  say — " 

The  farmer,  seeing  he  was  in  the  way,  called  out  a  careless 
good-night,  and  rode  on. 

"  Well,  what's  the  matter  ?  "  said  George  Rosewarne,  a  little 
snappishly  :  he  did  not  like  being  worried  by  excitable  people. 

"  Your  daughters  !  "  gasped  Mr.  Roscorla.  "  They've  both 
run  away — both  of  them — this  minute — with  Trelyon  !  You'll 
have  to  ride  after  them.  They're  straight  away  along  the 
high-road." 

"  Both  of  them  ?  the  infernal  young  fools  ! "  said  Rose- 
warne.    "  Why  the  devil  didn't  you  stop  them  yourself? " 

"  How  could  I  ?  "  Roscorla  said,  amazed  that  the  father 
took  the  flight  of  his  daughters  with  apparent  equanimity. 
"  You  must  make  haste,  Mr.  Rosewarne,  or  you'll  never  catch 
them." 

"  I've  a  good  mind  to  let  'em  go,"  said  he  sulkily,  as  he 
walked  over  to  the  stables  of  the  inn.  "  The  notion  of  a  man 
having  to  set  out  on  a  wild-goose  chase  at  this  time  o' 
night !  Run  away,  have  they  ?  and  what  in  all  the  world 
have  they  run  away  for  ? " 

It  occurred  to  him,  however,  that  the  sooner  he  got  a  horse 
saddled  and  set  out,  the  less  distance  he  would  have  to  go  in 
pursuit;  and  that  consideration  quickened  his  movements. 

"  What's  it  all  about  ?  "  said  he  to  Roscorla,  who  had  fol- 
lowed him  into  the  stable. 

"  I  suppose  they  mean  a  runaway  match,"  said  Mr.  Ros- 
corla, helping  to  saddle  George  Rosewarne's  cob,  a  famous 
trotter. 

"  It's  that  young  devil's  limb,  Mabyn,  I'll  be  bound,"  said 
the  father.  "  I  wish  to  heaven  somebody  would  marry  her 
— I  don't  care  who.  She's  always  up  to  some  confounded 
mischief." 

"  No,  no,  no  !  "  Roscorla  said  ;  "  it's  Wenna  he  means  to 
marry." 


INTO  CAPTIVITY.  2t>5 

"  Why,  you  were  to  have  married  Wenna — " 

"  Yes,  but—" 

"Then  why  didn't  you  ?     So  she's  run  away,  has  she  ?  " 

George  Rosewarne  grinned  :  he  saw  how  the  matter  lay. 

"  This  is  Mabyn's  work,  I  know,"  said  he,  as  he  put  his 
foot  in  the  stirrup,  and  sprang  into  the  saddle.  "  You'd  bet- 
ter go  home,  Roscorla.  Don't  you  say  a  word  to  anybody. 
You  don't  want  the  girl  made  a  fool  of  all  through  the 
place." 

So  George  Rosewarne  set  out  to  bring  back  his  daughters ; 
not  galloping  as  an  anxious  parent  might,  but  going  ahead 
with  a  long,  steady-going  trot,  which  he  knew  would  soon 
tell  on  Mrs.  Trelyon's  overfed  and  under-exercised  horses. 

"  If  they  mean  Plymouth,"  he  was  thinking,  "  as  is  most 
likely  from  their  taking  the  high-road,  he'll  give  it  them  gent- 
ly at  first.  And  so  that  young  man  wants  to  marry  our 
Wenna.  'Twould  be  a  fine  match  for  her ;  and  yet  she's 
worth  all  the  money  he's  got — she's  worth  it  every  farthing. 
I'd  give  him  the  other  one  cheap  enough." 

Pounding  along  a  dark  road,  with  the  consciousness  that 
the  farther  you  go  the  farther  you've  got  to  get  back,  and. 
that  the  distance  still  to  be  done  is  an  indeterminate  quan- 
tity, is  agreeable  to  no  one  ;  but  it  was  especially  vexatious 
to  George  Rosewarne,  who  liked  to  take  things  quietly,  and 
could  not  understand  what  all  the  tuss  was  about.  Why 
should  he  be  sent  on  this  mad  chase  at  midnight  ?  If  any- 
body wanted  to  marry  either  of  the  girls,  why  didn't  he  do 
so,  and  say  no  more  about  it  ?  Rosewarne  had  been  merely 
impatient  and  annoyed  when  he  set  out ;  but  the  longer  he 
rode,  and  the  more  he  communed  with  himself,  the  deeper 
grew  his  sense  of  the  personal  injury  that  had  been  done 
him  by  this  act  of  folly. 

It  was  a  very  lonely  ride  indeed.  There  was  not  a  hu- 
man being  abroad  at  that  hour.  When  he  passed  a  few 
cottages  from  time  to  time  the  windows  were  dark.  Then 
they  had  just  been  putting  down  a  lot  of  loose  stones  at  sev- 
eral parts  of  the  road,  which  caused  Mr.  Rosewarne  to 
swear. 

"  I'll  bet  a  sovereign,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  that  old  Job 
kept  them  a  quarter  of  an  "hour  before  he  opened  Paddock's 
Gate.  I  believe  the  old  fool  goes  to  bed.  Well,  they've 
waked  him  up  for  me,  anyway." 

There  was  some  consolation  in  this  surmise,  which  was 
well  founded.     When  Rosewarne  reached  the  toll-bar,  there 


266  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

was  at  least  a  light  in  the  small  house.     He  struck  on  the 
door  with  the  handle  of  his  riding-whip,  and  called  out — 

"  Hi,  hi !  Job  !     Come  out,  you  old  fool  !" 

An  old  man,  with  very  bandy  legs,  came  hobbling  out  of 
the  toll-house,  and  went  to  open  the  gate,  talking  and  mut- 
tering to  himself — 

"Ay,  ay!  so  yii  be  agwoin'  after  the  young  uns,  Maister 
Rosewarne  ?  Ay,  ay !  yu'll  go  up  many  a  lane,  and  by  many 
a  fuzzy  'ill,  and  acrass  a  bridge  or  two  afore  yii  come  up  wi' 
'en,  Maister  Rosewarne." 

"  Look  sharp,  Job  !  "  said  Rosewarne.  "  Carriage  been 
through  here  lately  ?  " 

"  Ay,  ay,  Maister  Rosewarne !  'tis  a  good  half-hour 
agone." 

"  A  half-hour,  you  idiot  ?  "  said  Rosewarne,  now  in  a  thor- 
oughly bad  temper.  "You've  been  asleep  and  dreaming. 
Here,  take  your  confounded  money  !  " 

So  he  rode  on  again,  not  believing,  of  course,  old  Job's 
malicious  fabrication,  but  being  rendered  all  the  same  a  lit- 
tle uncomfortable  by  it.  Fortunately,  the  cob  had  not  been 
out  before  that  day. 

More  deep  lanes,  more  high,  open,  windy  spaces,  more  si- 
lent cottages,  more  rough  stones  ;  and  always  the  measured 
fall  of  the  cob's  feet  and  the  continued  shining  and  throbbing 
of  the  stars  overhead.  At  last,  far  away  ahead,  on  the  top 
of  a  high  incline,  he  caught  sight  of  a  solitary  point  of  rud- 
dy fire,  which  presently  disappeared.  That,  he  concluded, 
was  the  carriage  he  was  pursuing  going  around  a  corner, 
and  showing  only  the  one  lamp  as  it  turned.  They  were  not 
so  far  in  front  of  him  as  he  had  supposed. 

But  how  to  overtake  them  ?  So  soon  as  they  heard  the 
sound  of  his  horse  would  they  dash  onward  at  all  risks,  and 
have  a  race  for  it  all  through  the  night  ?  In  that  case, 
George  Rosewarne  inwardly  resolved  that  they  might  go  to 
Plymouth,  or  into  the  deep  sea  beyond,  before  he  would  in- 
jure his  favorite  cob. 

On  the  other  hand,  he  could  not  bring  them  to  a  stand-still 
by  threatening  to  shoot  at  his  own  daughters,  even  if  he  had 
had  anything  with  him  that  would  look  like  a  pistol.  Should 
he  have  to  rely  then  on  the  moral  terrors  of  a  parent's 
authority  ?  George  Rosewarne  was  inclined  to  laugh  when 
he  thought  of  his  overawing  in  this  fashion  the  high  spirit  of 
his  younger  daughter. 

By  slow  and  sure  degrees  he  gained  on  the  fugitives ; 
aud  as  he  could  now  catch  some  sound  of  the  rattling  of  the 


INTO  CAPTIVITY.  267 

carriage-wheels,  they  must  also  hear  his  horse's  footfall.. 
Were  they  trying  to  get  away  from  him  ?  On  the  contrary, 
the  carriage  stopped  altogether. 

That  was  Harry  Trelyon's  decision.  For  some  time  back 
he  had  been  listening  attentively.     At  length  he  said — 

"  Don't  you  hear  some  one  riding  back  there  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do  ! "  said  Wenna,  beginning  to  tremble. 

"  I  suppose  it  is  Mr.  Roscorla  coming  after  us,"  the  young 
man  said  coolly.  "  Now  I  think  it  would  be  a  shame  to  drag 
the  old  gentleman  half-way  down  to  Plymouth.  He  must 
have  had  a  good  spell  already.  Shall  I  stop,  and  persuade 
him  to  go  back  home  to  bed  ? " 

"  Oh  no  !  "  said  Mabyn,  who  was  all  for  getting  on  at  any 
risk. 

"  Oh  no  ! "  Wenna  said,  fearing  the  result  of  an  encounter 
between  the  two  men. 

"  I  must  stop,"  Trelyon  said.  "  It's  such  precious  hard 
lines  on  him.  I  shall  easily  persuade  him  that  he  would  be 
better  at  home." 

So  he  pulled  up  the  horses,  and  quietly  waited  by  the  road- 
side for  a  few  minutes.  The  unknown  rider  drew  nearer  and 
more  near. 

"  That  isn't  Roscorla's  pony,"  said  Trelyon,  listening. 
"  That's  more  like  your  father's  cob." 

"  My  father  !  "  said  Wenna  in  a  low  voice. 

"  My  darling,  you  needn't  be  afraid,  whoever  it  is,"  Trelyon 
said. 

"  Certainly  not,"  added  Mabyn,  who  was  far  more  un- 
comfortable than  she  chose  to  appear.  "Who  can  prevent 
us  going  on  ?  They  don't  lock  you  up  in  convents  nowadays. 
If  it  is  Mr.  Roscorla,  you  just  let  me  talk  to  him," 

Their  doubt  on  that  head  was  soon  set  at  rest.  White 
Charley,  with  his  long  swinging  trot,  soon  brought  George 
Rosewarne  up  to  the  side  of  the  phaeton,  and  the  girls,  long 
ere  he  had  arrived,  had  recognized  in  the  gloom  the  tall 
figure  of  their  father.     Even  Mabyn  was  a  trifle  nervous. 

But  George  Rosewarne — perhaps  because  he  was  a  little 
pacified  by  their  having  stopped — did  not  rage  and  fume  as  a 
father  is  expected  to  do  whose  daughter  has  run  away  from 
him.  As  soon  as  he  had  pulled  up  his  horse,  he  called  out 
in  a  petulant  tone — 

"  Well  !  what  the  devil  is  all  this  about  ? " 

"I'll  tell  you,  sir,"  said  Trelyon,  quite  respectfully  and 
quite  firmly.     "  I  wished  to  marry  your  daughter  Wenna — " 

"  And  why  couldn't  you  do  that  in  Eglosilyan,  instead  of 


263  THREE  FEATHERS. 

making  a  fool  of  everybody  all  around  ?  "  Rosewarne  said, 
still  talking  in  an  angry  and  vexed  way,  as  of  one  who  had 
been  personally  injured. 

"  Oh,  dada !  "  Mabyn  cried,  "  you  don't  know  how  it 
happened;  but  they  couldn't  have  got  married  there.  There's 
that  horrid  old  wretch,  Mr.  Roscorla — and  Wenna  was  quite 
a  slave  to  him,  and  afraid  of  him — and  the  only  way  was  to 
carry  her  away  from  him — and  so — " 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  Mabyn  !  "  her  father  said.  "  You'd 
drive  a  windmill  with  your  talk !  " 

"  But  what  she  says  is  true  enough,"  Trelyon  said.  "  Ros- 
corla has  a  claim  on  her — this  was  my  only  chance,  and  I 
took  it.  Now  look  here,  Mr.  Rosewarne ;  you've  a  right  to 
be  angry  and  all  that — perhaps  you  are  ;  but  what  good  will 
it  do  you  to  see  Wenna  left  to  marry  Roscorla  ?  " 

"  What  good  will  it  do  me  ?  "  said  Geosge  Rosewarne 
pettishly.     "  I  don't  care  which  of  you  she  marries — " 

"  Then  you'll  let  us  go  on,  dada  ?  "  Mabyn  cried.  "  Will 
you  come  with  us?  Oh,  do  come  with  us!  We're  only 
going  to  Plymouth." 

Even  the  angry  father  could  not  withstand  the  absurdity  of 
this  appeal.     He  burst  into  a  roar  of  ill-tempered  laughter. 

"  I  like  that !  "  he  cried.  "  Asking  a  man  to  help  his 
daughter  to  run  away  from  his  own  house  !  It's  my  impres- 
sion, my  young  mistress,  that  you're  at  the  bottom  of  all  this 
nonsense.  Come,  come  !  enough  of  it,  Trelyon  !  be  a  sensible 
fellow,  and  turn  your  horses  round — why,  the  notion  of  going 
to  Plymouth  at  this  time  o'  night !  " 

Trelyon  looked  at  his  companion.  She  put  her  hand  on 
his  arm,  and  said,  in  a  trembling  whisper — 

"  Oh  yes  !  pray  let  us  go  back," 

"  You  know  what  you  are  going  to,  then  ? "  said  he  coldly. 
She  trembled  still  more. 

"  Come,  come  !  "  said  her  father,  "  you  mustn't  stop  here 
all  night.  You  may  thank  me  for  preventing  your  becoming 
the  talk  of  the  whole  country." 

"  I  shouldn't  have  minded  that  much,"  Mabyn  said  rue- 
fully, and  very  like  to  cry,  indeed,  as  the  horses  set  out  upon 
their  journey  back  to  Eglosilyan. 

It  was  not  ?  pleasant  journey  for  any  of  them — least  of  all 
for  Wenna  Rosewarne,  who  having  been  bewildered  by  one 
wild  glimpse  of  liberty,  felt  with  terror  and  infinite  sadness 
and  despair  the  old  manacles  closing  around  her  life  again. 
And  what  although  the  neighbors  might  remain  in  ignorance 


INTO  CAPTIVITY.  269 

of  what  she  had  done?  She  herself  knew,  and  that  was 
enough. 

"  You  think  no  one  will  know  ?  "  Mabyn  called  out  spite- 
fully to  her  father.  "  Do  you  think  old  Job  at  the  gate  has 
lost  either  his  tongue  or  his  nasty  temper  ?  " 

"  Leave  Job  to  me,"  the  father  replied. 

When  they  got  to  Paddock's  Gate  the  old  man  had  again 
to  be  roused,  and  he  came  out  grumbling. 

"  Well,  you  discontented  old  sinner  !  "  Rosewarne  called  to 
him,  "  don't  you  like  having  to  earn  a  living  ?  " 

"  A  fine  livin'  to  wait  on  folks  that  don't  knaw  their  own 
mind,  and  keep  comin'  and  goin'  along  the  road  o'  nights  like 
a  weaver's  shuttle.     Hm  !  " 

"  Well,  Job,  you  sha'n'i  suffer  for  it  this  time,"  Rosewarne 
said.  "  I've  won  my  bet.  If  you  made  fifty  pounds  by  rid- 
ing a  few  miles  out,  what  would  you  give  the  gatekeeper  ?  " 

Even  that  suggestion  failed  to  inveigle  Job  into  a  better 
humor, 

"  Here's  a  sovereign  for  you,  Job.  Now  go  to  bed.  Good- 
night : " 

How  long  the  distance  seemed  to  be  ere  they  saw  the  lights 
of  Eglosilyan  again  !  There  were  only  one  or  two  small  points 
of  red  fire,  indeed,  where  the  inn  stood.  The  rest  of  the  vil- 
lage was  buried  in  darkness. 

"  Oh  !  what  will  mother  say  ?  "  Wenna  said  in  a  low  voice 
to  her  sister. 

"  She  will  be  very  sorry  we  did  not  get  away  altogether," 
Mabyn  answered.  "  And  of  course  it  was  Mr.  Roscorla  who 
spoiled  it.  Nobody  knew  anything  about  it  but  himself.  He 
must  have  run  on  to  the  inn  and  told  some  one.  Wasn't  it 
mean,  Wenna  ?     Couldn't  he  see  that  he  wasn't  wanted  ?  " 

"  Are  you  talking  of  Mr.  Roscorla  ?  "  Trelyon  said — George 
Rosewarne  was  a  bit  ahead  at  this  moment.  "  I  wish  to  good- 
ness I  had  gagged  him  and  slung  him  below  the  phaeton.  I 
knew  he  would  be  coming  down  there.  I  expected  him  every 
moment.     Why  were  you  so  late,  Mabyn  ?  " 

"  Oh !  you  needn't  blame  me,  Mr.  Trelyon,'  said  Mabyn, 
rather  hurt.     *  You  know  I  did  everything  I  could  for  you." 

"I  know  you  did,  Mabyn:  I  wish  it  had  turned  out  bet- 
ter." 

What  was  this,  then,  that  Wenna  heard,  as  she  sat  there,  be- 
wildered, apprehensive,  and  sad-hearted  ?  Had  her  own  sis- 
ter joined  in  this  league  to  carry  her  off?  Was  it  not  merely 
the    audacity    of    young    Trelyon    that    had    led    to    their 


2;o  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

meeting  ?     But  she  was  altogether  too  frightened  and  wretch- 
ed to  be  angry. 

As  they  got  down  into  Eglosilyan,  and  turned  the  sharp 
corner  over  the  bridge,  they  did  not  notice  the  figure  of  a  man 
who  had  been  concealing  himself  in  the  darkness  of  a  shed 
belonging  to  a  slate-yard.  So  soon  as  they  had  passed  he  went 
some  little  way  after  them  until,  from  the  bridge,  he  could  see 
them  stop  at  the  door  of  the  inn.  Was  it  Mrs.  Rosewarne 
who  came  out  of  the  glare,  and  with  something  like  a  cry  of 
delight  caught  her  daughter  in  her  arms  ?  He  watched  the 
figures  go  inside,  and  the  phaeton  drive  away  up  the  hill ;  then, 
in  the  perfect  silence  of  the  night,  he  turned  and  slowly  made 
his  way  towards  Basset  Cottage. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

AN   ANGRY    INTERVIEW. 

Next  morning  George  Rosewarne  was  seated  on  the  old 
oak  bench  in  front  of  the  inn,  reading  a  newspaper.  Hap- 
pening to  look  up,  he  saw  Mr.  Roscorla  hurrying  towards 
him  over  the  bridge,  with  no  very  pleasant  expression  on  his 
face.  As  he  came  nearer,  he  saw  that  the  man  was  strangely 
excited. 

"  I  want  to  see  your  daughter  alone,"  he  said. 

"  You  needn't  speak  as  if  I  had  tried  to  run  away  with 
her,"  Rosewarne  answered,  with  more  good-nature  than  was 
his  wont.     "  Well,  go  indoors.     Ask  for  her  mother." 

As  Roscorla  passed  him  there  was  a  look  in  his  eyes  which 
rather  startled  George  Rosewarne. 

"  Is  it  possible,"  he  asked  himself,  "  that  this  elderly  chap 
is  really  badly  in  love  with  our  Wenna  ?  " 

But  another  thought  struck  him.  He  suddenly  jumped  up, 
followed  Roscorla  into  the  passage,  where  the  latter  was 
standing,  and  said  to  him — 

"  Don't  you  be  too  harsh  with  Wenna.  She's  only  a  girl ; 
and  they're  all  alike."  This  hint,  however  discourteous  in 
its  terms,  had  some  significance  as  coming  from  a  man  who 
was  six  inches  taller  than  Mr.  Roscorla. 

Mr.  Roscorla  was  shown  into  an  empty  room.  He  marched 
up  and  down  looking  at  nothing.  He  was  simply  in  an  ungov- 
ernable rage. 

Wenna  came,  and   shut  the  door  behind  her ;  and  for  a 


AN  ANGR  Y  INTER  VIE  W.  27 1 

second  or  so  he  stared  at  her  as  if  expecting  her  to  burst 
into  passionate  professions  of  remorse.  On  the  contrary, 
there  was  something  more  than  calmness  in  her  appearance 
— there  was  the  desperation  of  a  hunted  animal  that  is  driven 
to  turn  upon  its  pursuer  in  the  mere  agony  of  helplessness. 

"  Well !  "  said  he — for,  indeed,  his  passion  almost  deprived 
him  of  his  power  of  speech—"  what  have  you  to  say  ?  Per- 
haps nothing.  It  is  nothing,  perhaps,  to  a  woman  to  be 
treacherous — to  tell  smooth  lies  to  your  face,  and  to  go  plot- 
ting against  you  behind  your  back  ?  You  have  nothing  to 
say  ?     You  have  nothing  to  say  ?  " 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say,"  she  said,  with  some  little  sadness 
in  her  voice,  "  that  would  excuse  me,  either  to  you  or  myself 
—yes!  I  know  that.  But— but  I  did  not  intentionally 
deceive  you — " 

He  turned  away  with  an  angry  gesture. 

"  Indeed,  indeed  I  did  not,"  she  said  piteously.  "  I  had 
mistaken  my  own  feelings — the  temptation  was  too  great. 
Oh,  Mr.  Ros'corla  !  you  need  not  say  harsh  things  of  me,  for 
indeed  I  think  worse  of  myself  than  you  can  do." 

"  And  I  suppose  you  want  forgiveness  now  ?  "  he  added 
bitterly.  "But  I  have  had  enough  of  that.  A  woman 
pledges  you  her  affection,  promises  to  marry  you,  professes 
to  have  no  doubts  as  to  the  future  ;  and  all  the  while  she  is 
secretly  encouraging  the  attentions  of  a  young  jackanapes 
who  is  playing  with  her  and  making  a  fool  of  her — " 

Wenna  Rosewarne's  cheeks  began  to  burn  red  :  a  less 
angry  man  would  have  taken  warning. 

«  Yes — playing  with  her  and  making  a  fool  of  her.  And 
for  what  ?  To  pass  an  idle  time,  and  make  her  the  byword 
of  her  neighbors." 

"  It  is  not  true !  it  is  not  true !  "  she  said  indignantly  ; 
and  there  was  a  dangerous  light  in  her  eyes.  "  If  he  were 
here,  you  would  not  dare  to  say  such  things  to  me — no,  you 
would  not  dare  !  " 

"  Perhaps  you  expect  him  to  call  after  the  pretty  exploit  of 
last  night  ? "  asked  Roscorla,  with  a  sneer. 

"  I  do  not,"  she  said.  "  I  hope  I  shall  never  see  him  again. 
It  is — it  is  only  misery  to  every  one — " 

And  here  she  broke  down,  in  spite  of  herself.  Her  anger 
gave  way  to  a  burst  of  tears. 

"  But  what  madness  is  this  ?  "  Roscorla  cried.  "  You  wish 
never  to  meet  him  again ;  yet  you  are  ready  at  a  moment's 
notice  to  run  away  with  him,  disgracing  yourself  and  your 
family.     You  make  promises   about  never  seeing  him ;  you 


272  THREE  FEATHERS. 

break  them  the  instant  you  get  the  opportunity.  You  profess 
that  your  girlish  fancy  for  a  barber's  block  of  a  fellow  has 
been  got  over ;  and  then,  as  soon  as  one's  back  is  turned, 
you  reveal  your  hypocrisy — " 

"  Indeed  I  did  not  mean  to  deceive  you,"  she  said,  implor- 
ingly. "  I  did  believe  that  all  that  was  over  and  gone.  I 
thought  it  was  a  foolish  fancy — " 

"  And  now  ?  "  said  he,  hotly. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Roscorla,  you  ought  to  pity  me  instead  of  being 
angry  with  me.  I  do  love  him — I  cannot  help  it.  You  will 
not  ask  me  to  marry  you !  See,  I  will  undertake  not  to 
marry  him — I  will  undertake  never  to  see  him  again — if  only 
you  will  not  ask  me  to  keep  my  promise  to  you.  How  can 
I  ?     How  can  I  ?  " 

"  Pity  you  !  and  these  are  the  confessions  you  make  !  "  he 
exclaimed.  "  Why,  are  you  not  ashamed  of  yourself  to  say 
such  things  to  me  ?  And  so  you  would  undertake  not  to 
marry  him  ?     I  know  what  your  undertakings  are  worth  !  " 

He  had  struck  her  hard — his  very  hardest,  indeed ;  but 
she  would  not  suffer  herself  to  reply,  for  she  believed  she  de- 
served far  more  punishment  than  he  could  inflict.  All  that 
she  could  hope  for — all  that  her  whole  nature  cried  out  for 
— was  that  he  should  not  think  her  treacherous.  She  had 
not  intentionally  deceived  him.  She  had  not  planned  that 
effort  at  escape.  But  when,  in  a  hurried  and  pathetic  fash- 
ion, she  endeavored  to  explain  all  this  to  him,  he  would  not 
listen.  He  angrily  told  her  he  knew  well  how  women  could 
gloss  over  such  matters.  He  was  no  school-boy  to  be  hood- 
winked. It  was  not  as  if  she  had  had  no  warning ;  her  con- 
duct before  had  been  bad  enough,  when  it  was  possible  to 
overlook  it  on  the  score  of  carelessness,  but  now  it  is  such 
as  would  disgrace  any  woman  who  knew  her  honor  was  con- 
cerned in  holding  to  the  word  she  had  spoken. 

"  And  what  is  he  ?  "  he  cried,  mad  with  wrath  and  jealousy. 
"  An  ignorant  booby  !  a  ploughboy  !  a  lout  who  has  neither 
the  manners  of  a  gentleman  nor  the  education  of  a  day- 
laborer — " 

"Yes,  you  may  well  say  such  things  of  him  now,"  said  she, 
with  her  eyes  flashing,  "when  his  back  is  turned.  You 
would  not  say  so  if  he  were  here.  But  he — yes,  if  he  were 
here — he  would  tell  you  what  he  thinks  of  you  ;  for  he  is  a 
gentleman  and  not  a  coward." 

Angry  as  he  was,  Mr.  Roscorla  was  astounded.  The  fire 
in  her  eyes,  the  flush  in  her  cheeks,  the  impetuosity  of  her 
voice — were  these  the  patient  Wenna  of  old  ?     But  a  girl 


AN  ANGR  V  IiYTER  VIE  IV.  273 

betrays  herself  sometimes,  if  she  happens  to  have  to  defend 
her  lover. 

"  Oh  !  it  is  shameful  of  you  to  say  such  things  !  "  she  said. 
"  And  you  know  they  are  not  true.  There  is  not  any  one  I 
have  ever  seen  who  is  so  manly  and  frank  and  unselfish  as 
Mr.  Trelyon — not  any  one  ;  and  if  I  have  seen  that — if  I 
have  admired  too  much — well,  that  is  a  great  misfortune,  and 
I  have  to  suffer  for  it." 

"To  suffer? — yes,"  said  he,  bitterly.  "That  is  a  pretty 
form  of  suffering  that  makes  you  plan  a  runaway  marriage 
— a  marriage  that  would  bring  into  your  possession  the  larg- 
est estates  in  the  north  of  Cornwall.  A  very  pretty  form  of 
suffering!  May  I  ask  when  the  experiment  is  to  be  re- 
peated ?  " 

"You  may  insult  me  as  you  like — I  am  only  a  woman," 
she  said. 

"  Insult  you  ?  "  he  cried,  with  fresh  vehemence.  "  Is  it 
insult  to  speak  the  truth  ?  Yesterday  forenoon,  when  I  saw 
you,  you  were  all  smiles  and  smoothness.  When  I  spoke  of 
our  marriage,  you  made  no  objection.  But  all  the  same  you 
knew  that  at  night — " 

"  I  did  not  know — I  did  not  know  !  "  she  said.  "  You 
ought  to  believe  me  when  I  tell  you  I  knew  no  more  about  it 
than  you  did.  When  I  met  him  there  at  night — it  was  all  so 
sudden,  so  unexpected — I  scarcely  knew  what  I  said  ;  but 
now — but  now  I  have  time  to  think —  Oh,  Mr.  Roscorla, 
don't  think  that  I  do  not  regret  it !  I  will  do  anything  you 
ask  me — I  will  promise  what  you  please — indeed,  I  will  un- 
dertake never  to  see  him  again  as  long  as  I  live  in  this  world 
— only,  you  won't  ask  me  to  keep  my  promise  to  you — " 

He  made  no  reply  to  this  offer  ;  for  a  step  outside  the  door 
caused  him  to  mutter  something  very  like  an  oath  between 
his  teeth.  The  door  was  thrown  open,  Mabyn  marched  in 
— a  little  pale,  but  very  erect. 

"  Mabyn,  leave  us  alone  for  a  moment  or  two,"  said 
Wenna,  turning  away  so  as  to  hide  the  tears  on  her  face. 

"  I  will  not.  I  want  to  speak  a  word  or  two  to  Mr.  Ros- 
corla." 

"  Mabyn,  I  want  you  to  go  away  just  now." 

Mabyn  went  over  to  her  sister,  and  took  her  by  the 
hand. 

"  Wenna,  dear,  go  away  to  your  own  room.  You've  had 
quite  enough — you  are  trembling  all  over.  I  suppose  he'll 
make  me  tremble  next." 

"  Really,  I  think  your  interference  is  rather  extraordinary, 
18 


274  THREE  FEATHERS. 

Miss  Mabyn,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  striving  to  contain  his 
rage. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Mabyn  meekly.  "  I  only  want 
to  say  a  word  or  two.  Wouldn't  it  be  better  here  than  be- 
fore the  servants  ?  " 

With  that  she  led  Wenna  away.  In  a  minute  or  two  she 
returned.  Mr.  Roscorla  would  rather  have  been  shut  up  in 
a  den  with  a  hungry  tigress. 

"  I  am  quite  at  your  service,"  he  said  with  a  bitter  irony, 
"  I  suppose  you  have  some  very  important  communication  to 
make,  considering  the  way  in  which  you — " 

"  Interfered  ?  Yes,  it  is  time  that  I  interfered,"  Mabyn 
said,  still  quite  calm  and  a  trifle  pale.  "  Mr.  Roscorla,  to  be 
frank,  I  don't  like  you,  and  perhaps  I  am  not  quite  fair  to 
you.  I  am  only  a  young  girl,  and  don't  know  what  the  world 
would  say  about  your  relations  with  Wenna.  But  Wenna  is 
my  sister,  and  I  see  she  is  wretched  ;  and  her  wretchedness 
— well,  that  comes  of  her  engagement  to  you." 

She  was  standing  before  him,  with  her  eyes  cast  down, 
apparently  determined  to  be  very  moderate  in  her  speech. 
But  there  was  a  cruel  frankness  in  her  words  which  hurt  Mr. 
Roscorla  a  deal  more  than  any  tempest  of  passion  into  which 
she  might  have  worked  herself. 

"  Is  that  all  ?  "  said  he.  "  You  have  not  startled  me  with 
any  revelations." 

"  I  was  going  to  say,"  continued  Mabyn,  "  that  a  gentle- 
man who  has  really  a  regard  for  a  girl  would  not  insist  on 
her  keeping  a  promise  which  only  rendered  her  unhappy.  I 
don't  see  what  you  are  to  gain  by  it.  I  suppose  you — you 
expect  Wenna  to  marry  you  ?  Well,  I  dare  say  if  you  called 
on  her  to  punish  herself  that  way  she  might  do  it.  But  what 
good  would  that  do  you  ?  Would  you  like  to  have  a  wife 
who  was  in  love  with  another  man  ?  " 

"  You  have  become  quite  logical,  Miss  Mabyn,"  said  he, 
"  and  argument  suits  you  better  than  getting  into  a  rage. 
And  much  of  what  you  say  is  true.  You  are  a  very  young 
girl.  You  don't  know  much  of  what  the  world  would  say 
about  anything.  But  being  furnished  with  these  admirable 
convictions,  did  it  never  occur  to  you  that  you  might  not  be 
acting  wisely  in  blundering  into  an  affair  of  which  you  know 
nothing  ?  " 

The  coldly  sarcastic  fashion  in  which  he  spoke  threatened 
to  disturb  Mabyn's  forced  equanimity. 

"  Know  nothing  ?  "  she  said.  "  I  know  everything  about 
it ;  and  I  can  see  that  my  sister  is  miserable — that  is  suffi- 


AN  ANGRY  INTERVIEW.  275 

cient  reason  for  my  interference.  Mr.  Roscorla,  you  won't 
ask  her  to  marry  you  !  " 

Had  the  proud  and  passionate  Mabyn  condescended  to 
make  an  appeal  to  her  ancient  enemy  ?  At  least  she  raised 
her  eyes ;  and  they  seemed  to  plead  for  mercy. 

"  Come,  come  !  "  he  said,  roughly,  "  I've  had  enough  of  all 
this  sham  beseeching  ;  I  know  what  it  means.  Treiyon  is  a 
richer  man  than  I  am  ;  she  has  let  her  idle  girlish  notions  go 
dreaming  day-dreams  ;  and  so  I  am  expected  to  stand  aside. 
There  has  been  enough  of  this  nonsense.  She  is  not  a  child  ; 
she  knows  what  she  undertook  of  her  own  free  will ;  and 
she  knows  she  can  get  rid  of  this  school-girl  fancy  directly 
if  she  chooses.  I  for  one  won't  help  her  to  disgrace  her- 
self." 

Mabyn  began  to  breathe  a  little  more  quickly.  She  had 
tried  to  be  reasonable ;  she  had  even  humbled  herself  and 
begged  from  him  ;  now  there  was  a  sensation  in  her  chest  as 
of  some  rising  emotion  that  demanded  expression  in  quick 
words." 

"  You  will  try  to  make  her  marry  you  ?  "  said  she,  looking 
him  in  the  face. 

"  I  will  try  to  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  said  he.  "  She  can 
do  as  she  likes.  But  she  knows  what  an  honorable  woman 
would  do." 

"  And  I,"  said  Mabyn,  her  temper  at  length  quite  getting 
the  better  of  her,  "  I  know  what  an  honorable  man  would  do. 
He  would  refuse  to  bind  a  girl  to  a  promise  which  she  fears. 
He  would  consider  her  happiness  to  be  of  more  importance 
than  his  comfort.  Why,  I  don't  believe  you  care  at  all 
whether  Wenna  marries  you  or  not — it  is  only  you  can't  bear 
her  being  married  to  the  man  she  really  does  love — it  is  only 
envy,  that's  what  it  is.  Oh  !  I  am  ashamed  to  think  there  is 
a  man  alive  who  would  force  a  girl  into  becoming  his  wife  on 
such  terms — " 

"  There  is  certainly  one  considerable  objection  to  my 
marrying  your  sister,"  said  he,  with  great  politeness.  "  The 
manners  of  some  of  her  relatives  might  prove  embarrass- 
ing." 

"  Yes,  that  is  true  enough,"  Mabyn  said,  with  hot  cheeks. 
"  If  ever  I  became  a  relative  of  yours,  my  manners  no  doubt 
would  embarrass  you  very  considerably.  But  I  am  not  a 
relative  of  yours  as  yet,  nor  is  my  sister." 

"  May  I  consider  that  you  have  said  what  you  had  to  say  ? !* 
said  he,  taking  up  his  hat. 

Proud  and  angry,  and  at  the   same  time  mortified  by  her 


276  THREE  FEATHERS. 

defeat,  Mabyn  found  herself  speechless.  He  did  not  offer  to 
shake  hands  with  her.  He  bowed  to  her  in  passing  out. 
She  made  the  least  possible  acknowledgment,  and  then  she 
was  alone.  Of  course,  a  hearty  cry  followed.  She  felt  she 
had  done  no  good.  She  had  determined  to  be  calm  ;  where- 
as all  the  calmness  had  been  on  his  side,  and  she  had  been 
led  into  speaking  in  a  manner  which  a  discreet  and  well-bred 
young  lady  would  have  shrunk  from  in  horror.  Mabyn  sat 
still  and  sobbed,  partly  in  anger  and  partly  in  disappoint- 
ment ;  she  dared  not  even  go  to  tell  her  sister. 

But  Mr.  Roscorla,  as  he  went  over  the  bridge  again,  and 
went  up  to  Basset  Cottage,  had  lost  all  his  assumed  coolness 
of  judgment  and  demeanor.  He  felt  he  had  been  tricked  by 
Wenna  and  insulted  by  Mabyn,  while  his  rival  had  estab- 
lished a  hold  which  it  would  be  in  vain  for  him  to  seek  to  re- 
move. He  was  in  a  passion  of  rage.  He  would  not  go  near 
Wenna  again.  He  would  at  once  set  off  for  London  and  en- 
joy himself  there  while  his  holiday  lasted  ;  he  would  not 
write  a  word  to  her ;  then,  when  the  time  arrived,  he  would 
set  sail  for  Jamaica,  leaving  her  to  her  own  conscience.  He 
was  suffering  a  good  deal  from  anger,  envy,  and  jealousy ; 
but  he  was  consoled  by  the  thought  that  she  was  suffering 
more.  And  he  reflected,  with  some  comfort  to  himself,  that 
she  would  scarcely  so  far  demean  herself  as  to  marry  Harry 
Trelyon,  so  long  as  she  knew  in  her  heart  what  he,  Roscorla, 
could  think  of  her  for  so  doing. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

THE   OLD    HALF-FORGOTTEN   JOKE. 

"  Has  he  gone  ?  "  Wenna  asked  of  her  sister,  the  next  day. 

"  Yes,  he  has,"  Maybn  answered,  with  a  proud  and  revenge- 
ful face.  •*  It  was  quite  true  what  Mrs.  Cornish  told  me — 
I've  no  doubt  she  had  her  instructions.  He  has  just  driven 
away  to  Launceston,  on  his  way  to  London." 

"Without  a  word!" 

"Would  you  like  to  have  had  another  string  of  argu- 
ments ? "  Mabyn  said,  impatiently.  "  Oh,  Wenna,  you  don't 
know  what  mischief  all  this  is  doing.  You  are  awake  all 
night ;  you  cry  half  the  day  ;  what  is  to  be  the  end  of  it  ?  You 
will  work  yourself  into  a  fever." 

"Yes,  there  must  be  an  end  of  it,"  Wenna  said  with  deci- 


THE  OLD  HALF-FORGOTTEN  JOKE.  277 

sion,  "  not  for  myself  alone,  but  for  others.  That  is  all  the 
reparation  I  can  make  now.  No  girl  in  all  this  country  has 
ever  acted  so  badly  as  I  have  done — just  look  at  the  misery 
I  have  caused — but  now — " 

"  There  is  one  who  is  miserable,  because  he  loves  you," 
Mabyn  said. 

"  Do  you  think  that  Mr.  Roscorla  has  no  feelings  ?  You 
are  so  unjust  to  him.  Well,  it  does  not  matter  now  :  all  this 
must  come  to  an  end.  Mabyn,  I  should  like  to  see  Mr.  Trel- 
yon,  just  for  one  minute." 

"  What  will  you  say  to  him,  Wenna  ?  "  her  sister  said,  with 
a  sudden  fear. 

"  Something  that  is  necessary  to  say  to  him,  and  the  sooner 
it  is  over  the  better." 

Mabyn  rather  dreaded  the  result  of  this  interview  ;  and  yet, 
she  reflected  to  herself,  here  was  an  opportunity  for  Harry 
Trelyon  to  try  to  win  some  promise  from  her  sister.  Better,  in 
any  case,  that  they  should  meet  than  that  Wenna  should  sim- 
ply drive  him  away  into  banishment  without  a  word  of  expla- 
nation. 

The  meeting  was  easily  arranged.  On  the  next  morning, 
long  before  Wenna's  daily  round  of  duties  had  commenced, 
the  two  sisters  left  the  inn,  and  went  over  the  bridge,  and 
out  to  the  bold  promontory  of  black  rock  at  the  mouth  of  the 
harbor.  There  was  nobody  about.  This  October  morning 
was  more  like  a  summer-day ;  the  air  was  mild  and  still ;  the 
blue  sky  without  a  cloud  ;  the  shining  sea  plashed  around  the 
rocks  with  the  soft  murmuring  noise  of  a  July  calm.  It  was 
on  these  rocks,  long  ago,  that  Wenna  Rosewarne  had  pledged 
herself  to  become  the  wife  of  Mr.  Roscorla  ;  and  at  that  time 
life  had  seemed  to  her,  if  not  brilliant  and  beautiful,  at  least 
grateful  and  peaceful.     Now  all  the  peace  had  gone  out  of  it. 

"  Oh,  my  darling ! "  Trelyon  said,  as  she  advanced  alone 
towards  him — for  Mabyn  had  withdrawn.  "  It  is  so  good  of 
you  to  come.     Wenna,  what  has  frightened  you  ?  " 

He  had  seized  both  her  hands  in  his  ;  but  she  took  them 
away  again.  For  one  brief  second  her  eyes  had  met  his,  and 
there  was  a  sort  of  wistful  and  despairing  kindliness  in  them  ; 
then  she  stood  before  him,  with  her  face  turned  away  from 
him,  and  her  voice  low  and  tremulous. 

"  I  did  wise  to  see  you — for  once — for  the  last  time,"  she 
said.  "  If  you  had  gone  away,  you  would  have  carried  with 
you  cruel  thoughts  of  me.     I  wish  to  ask  your  forgiveness — " 

"  My  forgiveness  ?  " 

"Yes,  for  all  that   you  may  have  suffered:  and — for  all 


278  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

that  may  trouble  you  in  the  future — not  in  the  future,  but 
for  the  little  time  you  will  remember  what  has  taken  place 
here.  Mr.  Trelyon,  I — I  did  not  know  !  Indeed,  it  is  all  a 
mystery  to  me  now — and  a  great  misery — " 

Her  lips  began  to  quiver ;  but  she  controlled  herself. 

"  And  surely  it  will  only  be  for  a  short  time,  if  you  think  of 
it  at  all.  You  are  young — you  have  all  the  world  before  you. 
When  you  go  away  among  other  people  and  see  all  the  dif- 
ferent things  that  interest  a  young  man,  you  will  soon  forget 
whatever  has  happened  here." 

"  And  you  say  that  to  me,"  he  said,  "  and  you  said  the 
other  night  that  you  loved  me.  It  is  nothing,  then,  for 
people  who  love  each  other  to  go  away,  and  be  consoled,  and 
never  see  each  other  again  ?  " 

Again  the  lips  quivered  :  he  had  no  idea  of  the  terrible 
effort  that  was  needed  to  keep  this  girl  calm. 

"  I  did  say  that — "  she  said. 

"  And  it  was  true  ? "  he  broke  in. 

"  It  was  true  then — it  is  true  now — that  is  all  the  misery 
of  it !  "  she  exclaimed,  with  tears  starting  to  her  eyes. 

"  And  you  talk  of  our  being  separated  forever  !  "  he  cried. 
"  No  ! — not  if  I  can  help  it !  Mabyn  has  told  me  of  all  your 
scruples — they  are  not  worth  looking  at.  I  tell  you  you  are 
no  more  bound  to  that  man  than  Mabyn  is  ;  and  that  isn't 
much.  If  he  is  such  a  mean  hound  as  to  insist  on  your 
marrying  him,  then  I  will  appeal  to  your  father  and  mother, 
and  they  must  prevent  him.  Or  I  will  go  to  him  myself,  and 
settle  the  matter  in  a  shorter  way — " 

"  You  cannot  now,"  she  said  ;  "  he  has  gone  away.  And 
what  good  would  that  have  done  ?  I  would  never  marry 
any  man  unless  I  could  do  so  with  a  clear  and  happy  con- 
science ;  and  if  you — if  you  and  Mabyn — see  nothing  in  my 
treatment  of  him  that  is  wrong,  then  that  is  very  strange ; 
but  I  cannot  acquit  myself.  No  ;  I  hope  no  woman  will 
ever  treat  you  as  I  have  treated  him.  Look  at  his  position — 
an  elderly  man,  with  few  friends — he  has  not  all  the  best  of 
his  life  before  him  as  you  have — or  the  good  spirits  of  youth — 
and  after  he  had  gone  away  to  Jamaica,  taking  my  promise 
with  him — oh  !  I  am  ashamed  of  myself  when  I  think  on  all 
that  has  happened." 

"  Then  you've  no  right  to  be,"  said  he,  hotly.  "  It  was 
the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world,  and  he  ought  to  have 
known  it,  that  a  young  girl  who  has  been  argued  into 
engaging  herself  to  an  old  man  should  consider  her  being  in 
love  with  another  man   as  something  of  rather  more  impor- 


THE  OLD  HALF-FORGOTTEN  JOKE.  279 

tance — of  a  good  deal  more  importance,  I  should  say.  And 
his  suffering  ?  He  suffers  no  more  than  this  lump  of  rock 
does.  That  is  not  his  way  of  thinking — to  be  bothered 
about  anything.  He  may  be  angry,  yes  ! — and  vexed  for  the 
moment,  as  is  natural ;  but  if  you  think  he  is  going  about 
the  world  with  a  load  of  agony  on  him,  then  you're  quite 
mistaken.  And  if  he  were,  what  good  could  you  do  by 
making  yourself  miserable  as  well  ?  Wenna,  do  be  reason- 
able, now." 

Had  not  another,  on  this  very  spot,  prayed  her  to  be  rea- 
sonable ?  She  had  yielded  then.  Mr.  Roscorla's  arguments 
were  incontrovertible,  and  she  had  shrinkingly  accepted  the 
conclusion.  Now,  young  Trelyon's  representations  and 
pleadings  were  far  less  cogent ;  but  how  strongly  her  heart 
went  with  them  ! 

"  No  !  "  she  said,  as  if  she  were  shaking  off  the  influence 
of  the  tempter,  "  I  must  not  listen  to  you.  Yet  you  don't 
seem  to  think  that  it  costs  me  anything  to  ask  you  to  bid  me 
good-bye  once  and  for  all.  It  should  be  less  to  you  than  to 
me.  A  girl  thinks  of  these  things  more  than  a  man — she 
has  little  else  to  think  of — he  goes  out  into  the  world  and 
forgets.  And  you — you  will  go  away,  and  you  will  become 
such  a  man  as  all  who  know  you  will  love  to  speak  of  and  be 
proud  of ;  and  some  day  you  will  come  back,  and  if  you 
like  to  come  down  to  the  inn,  then  there  will  be  one  or  two 
there  glad  to  see  you.  Mr.  Trelyon,  don't  ask  me  to  tell  you 
why  this  should  be  so.  I  know  it  to  be  right ;  my  heart  tells 
me.     Now  I  will  say  good-bye  to  you." 

"  And  when  I  come  back  to  the  inn,  will  you  be  there  ?  " 
said  he,  becoming  rather  pale.  "  No  ;  you  will  be  married 
to  a  man  whom  you  will  hate." 

"  Indeed  no,"  she  said,  with  her  face  flushing  and  her  eyes 
cast  down.  "  How  can  that  be  after  what  has  taken  place  ? 
He  could  not  ask  me.  All  that  I  begged  of  him  before  he 
went  away  was  this — that  he  would  not  ask  me  to  marry  him  ; 
and  if  only  he  would  do  that,  I  promised  never  to  see  you 
again — after  bidding  you  good-bye  as  I  do  now." 

"  And  is  that  the  arrangement  ?  "  said  he,  rather  roughly. 
"  Are  we  to  play  at  dog  in  the  manger  ?  He  is  not  to  marry 
you  himself  ;  but  he  will  not  let  any  other  man  marry 
you?" 

"  Surely  he  has  some  right  to  consideration,"  she  said. 

"  Well,  Wenna,"  said  he,  "  if  you've  made  up  your  mind, 
there's  no  more  to  be  said.  I  think  you  are  needlessly 
cruel — " 


23o  THREE  FEATHERS. 

"  You  wont  say  that,  just  as  we  are  parting,"  she  said,  in  a 
low  voice.     "  Do  you  think  it  is  nothing  to  me  ?  " 

He  looked  at  her  for  a  moment  with  a  great  sadness  and 
compunction  in  his  eyes  ;  then,  moved  by  an  uncontrollable 
impulse,  he  caught  her  in  his  arms,  and  kissed  her  on 
the  lips. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  with  his  face  white  as  death,  "  tell  me 
that  you  will  never  marry  any  other  man  as  long  as  you 
live  !  " 

"  Yes,  I  will  say  that,"  she  said  to  him,  in  a  low  voice,  and 
with  a  face  as  white  as  his  own. 

"  Swear  it,  then  !  " 

"  I  have  said  that  I  will  never  marry  any  other  man  than 
you,"  she  said,  "  and  that  is  enough — for  me.  But  as  for  you 
— why  must  you  go  away  thinking  of  such  things  ?  You  will 
see  some  day  what  madness  it  would  have  been — you  will 
come  some  day  and  thank  me  for  having  told  you  so — and 
then — and  then — if  anything  should  be  mentioned  about 
what  I  said  just  now,  you  will  laugh  at  the  old  half-for- 
gotten joke — " 

Well,  there  was  no  laughing  at  the  joke  just  then  ;  for  the 
girl  burst  into  tears,  and  in  the  midst  of  that  she  hastily 
pressed  his  hand  and  hurried  away.  He  watched  her  go 
around  the  rocks  to  the  cleft  leading  down  to  the  harbor. 
There  she  was  rejoined  by  her  sister ;  and  the  two  of  them 
went  slowly  along  the  path  of  broken  slate,  with  the  green 
hill  above,  the  blue  water  below,  and  the  fair  sunshine  all 
around  them.  Many  a  time  he  recalled  afterwards — and 
always  with  an  increasing  weight  of  his  heart — how  sombre 
seemed  to  him  that  bright  October  clay,  and  the  picturesque 
opening  of  the  coast  leading  into  Eglosilyan.  For  it  was  the 
last  glimpse  of  Wenna  Rosewarne  that  he  was  to  have  for 
many  a  day  ;  and  a  sadder  picture  was  never  treasured  up  in 
a  man's  memory. 

"  Oh,  Wenna,  what  have  you  said  to  him  that  you  tremble 
so  ?  "     Mabyn  asked. 

"  I  have  bid  him  good-bye — that  is  all." 

"  Not  for  always  ?  " 

"  Yes,  for  always." 

"  And  he  is  going  away  again,  then  ? " 

"Yes,  as  a  young  man  should.  Why  should  he  stop  here  to 
make  himself  wretched  over  impossible  fancies  ?  He  will  go 
out  into  the  world ;  and  he  has  splendid  health  and  spirits  ; 
and  he  will  forget  all  this." 

"  And  you — you  are  anxious  to  forget  it  all  too  ?  " 


THE  OLD  HALF-FORGOTTEN  JOKE.  281 

"  Would  it  not  be  better  ?  What  good  can  come  of  dream- 
ing ?     Well,  I've  plenty  of  work  to  do  ;  that  is  well." 

Mabyn  was  very  much  inclined  to  cry  :  all  her  beautiful 
visions  of  the  future  happiness  of  her  sister  had  been  rudely 
dispelled.  All  her  schemes  and  machinations  had  gone  for 
nothing.  There  only  remained  to  her,  in  the  way  of  consola- 
tion, the  fact  that  Wenna  still  wore  the  sapphire  ring  that 
Harry  Trelyon  had  sent  her. 

"  And  what  will  his  mother  think  of  you  ?  "  said  Mabyn,  as 
a  last  argument,  "  when  she  finds  you  have  sent  him  away 
altogether — to  go  into  the  army,  and  go  abroad,  and  per- 
haps die  of  yellow-fever,  or  be  shot  by  the  Sepoys  and  the 
Caffres  ? " 

"  She  would  have  hated  me  if  I  had  married  him,"  said 
Wenna,  simply. 

"  Oh,  Wenna,  how  dare  you  say  such  a  thing  ! "  Mabyn 
cried.     "  What  do  you  mean  by  it  ? " 

"Would  a  lady  in  her  position  like  her  only  son  to  marry 
the  daughter  of  an  innkeeper  ?  "  Wenna  asked,  rather  indiffer- 
ently :  indeed,  her  thoughts  were  elsewhere. 

"  I  tell  you,  there's  no  one  in  the  world  she  loves  like  you 
— I  can  see  it  every  time  she  comes  down  for  you — and  she 
believes,  and  J  believe  too,  that  you  have  changed  Mr.  Trel- 
yon's  way  of  talking  and  his  manner  of  treating  people  in 
such  a  fashion  as  no  one  would  have  considered  possible. 
Do  you  think  she  hasn't  eyes  ?  He  is  scarcely  ever  imperti- 
nent now — when  he  is  it  is  always  in  good-nature,  and  never 
in  sulkiness.  Look  at  his  kindness  to  Mr.  Trewhella's  grand- 
daughter ;  and  Mr.  Trewhella  a  clergyman  too.  Did  he  ever 
use  to  take  his  mother  out  for  a  drive  ?  No,  never  !  And  of 
course  she  knows  whom  it's  all  owing  to  ;  and  if  you  would 
marry  Mr.  Trelyon,  Wenna,  I  believe  she  would  worship  you 
and  think  nothing  good  enough  for  you — " 

"  Mabyn,  I  am  going  to  ask  something  of  you." 

"  Oh  yes,  I  know  what  it  is,"  her  sister  said.  "  I  am  not 
to  speak  any  more  about  your  marriage  with  Mr.  Trelyon. 
But  I  won't  give  you  any  such  promise,  Wenna.  I  don't 
consider  that  old  man  has  any  hold  on  you." 

Wenna  said  nothing,  for  at  this  moment  they  entered  the 
house.  Mabyn  went  up  with  her  sister  to  her  room  ;  then 
she  stood  undecided  for  a  moment ;  finally  she  said — 

"  Wenna,  if  I've  vexed  you,  I'm  very  sorry.  I  won't  speak 
of  Mr.  Trelyon  if  you  don't  wish  it.  But  indeed  you  don't 
know  how  many  people  are    anxious    that   you    should  be 


284  THREE  FEATHERS. 

self,  who  was  writing  out  a  very  elaborate  menu,  considering 
that  he  was  ordering  dinner  for  himself  only.  He  and  Mr. 
Roscorla  agreed  to  dine  together. 

Now  for  some  years  back  Mr.  Roscorla,  in  visiting  his  club, 
had  found  himself  in  a  very  isolated  and  uncomfortable  posi- 
tion. Long  ago  he  had  belonged  to  the  younger  set — to  those 
reckless  young  fellows  who  were  not  afraid  to  eat  a  hasty  din- 
ner, and  then  rush  off  to  take  a  mother  and  a  couple  of 
daughters  to  the  theatre,  returning  at  midnight  to  some  an- 
chovy toast  and  a  glass  of  Burgundy,  followed  by  a  couple  of 
hours  of  brandy-and-soda,  cigars,  and  billiards.  But  he  had 
drifted  away  from  that  set;  indeed,  they  had  disappeared,  and 
he  knew  none  of  their  successors.  On  the  other  hand,  he 
had  never  got  into  the  ways  of  the  old-fogy  set.  Those  stout 
eld  gentlemen,  who  carefully  drank  nothing  but  claret-and- 
seltzer,  who  took  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  write  out  their  din- 
ner bill,  who  spent  the  evening  in  playing  whist,  kept  very 
much  to  themselves.  It  was  into  this  set  that  the  old  General 
now  introduced  him.  Mr.  Roscorla  had  quite  the  air  of  a 
bashful  young  man  when  he  made  one  of  a  party  of  those 
ancients,  who  dined  at  the  same  table  each  evening.  He  was 
almost  ashamed  to  order  a  pint  of  champagne  for  himself — 
it  savored  so  much  of  youth.  He  was  silent  in  the  presence 
of  his  seniors ;  and  indeed  they  were  garrulous  enough  to 
cover  his  silence.  Their  talk  was  mostly  of  politics — not  the 
politics  of  the  country,  but  the.  politics  of  office — of  under- 
secretaries and  candidates  for  place.  They  seemed  to  look 
on  the  Government  of  the  country  as  a  sort  of  mechanical 
clock,  which  from  time  to  time  sent  out  a  few  small  figures, 
and  from  time  to  time  took  them  in  again  ;  and  they  showed 
an  astonishing  acquaintance  with  the  internal  and  intricate 
mechanism  which  produced  these  changes.  Perhaps  it  was 
because  they  were  so  busy  in  watching  for  changes  on  the 
face  of  the  clock  that  they  seemed  to  forget  the  swinging  on- 
ward of  the  great  world  outside,  and  the  solemn  march  of  the 
stars. 

Most  of  those  old  gentlemen  had  lived  their  life — had  done 
their  share  of  heavy  dining  and  reckless  drinking  many  years 
ago — and  thus  it  was  they  had  come  to  drink  seltzer-and- 
claret.  But  it  appeared  that  it  was  their  custom,  after  din- 
ner, to  have  the  table  cover  removed,  and  some  port-wine 
placed  on  the  mahogany.  Mr.  Roscorla,  who  had  felt  as  yet 
no  ugly  sensations  about  his  finger  joints,  regarded  this  cere- 
mony with  equanimity ;  but  it  was  made  the  subject  of  some 
ominous  joking  on  the  part  of  his  companions.     Then  joking 


■XE  W  A  MB  I TIONS.  2S3 

led  to  joking.  There  were  no  more  politics.  Some  very 
funny  stories  were  told.  Occasionally  one  or  two  names  were 
introduced,  as  of  persons  well  known  in  London  society, 
though  not  of  it ;  and  Mr.  Roscorla  was  surprised  that  he 
had  never  heard  these  names  before — you  see  how  one  be- 
comes ignorant  of  the  world  if  one  buries  one's  self  down  in 
Cornwall,  Mr,  Roscorla  began  to  take  quite  an  interest  in 
these  celebrated  people,  in  the  price  of  their  ponies,  and  the 
diamonds  they  were  understood  to  have  worn  at  a  certain 
very  singular  ball  He  was  pleased  to  hear,  too,  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  the  aristocracy  of  England  were  resuming  their 
ancient  patronage  of  the  arts  ;  for  he  was  given  to  under- 
stand that  a  young  earl  or  baron  could  scarcely  be  considered 
a  man  of  fashion  unless  he  owned  a  theatre. 

On  their  way  up  to  the  card-room,  Mr.  Roscorla  and  one 
of  his  venerable  companions  went  into  the  hall  to  get  their 
cigar-case  from  their  top-coat  pocket  This  elderly  gentle- 
man had  been  the  governor  of  an  island  in  the  Pacific.  He 
had  now  been  resident  for  many  years  in  England.  He  was 
on  the  directorate  of  one  or  two  well-known  commercial  com- 
panies ;  he  had  spoken  at  several  meetings  on  the  danger  of 
dissociating  religion  from  education  in  the  training  of  the 
young ;  in  short,  he  was  a  tower  of  respectability.  On  the 
present  occasion  he  had  to  pull  out  a  muffler  to  get  at  his 
cigar-case  ;  and  with  the  muffler  came  a  small  parcel  tied  up 
in  tissue-paper. 

"  Neat,  aren't  they  ?  "  said  he,  with  a  senile  grin,  showing 
Mr.  Roscorla  the  tips  of  a  pair  of  pink  satin  slippers. 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla  ;  "  I  suppose  they're  for  your 
daughter  ?  " 

They  went  up  to  the  card-room. 

"  I  expect  you'll  teach  us  a  lesson,  Roscorla,"  said  the  old 
General.  "  Gad,  some  of  you  West  Indian  fellows  know  the 
difference  between  a  ten  and  a  ace." 

"Last  time  I  played  cards,"  Roscorla  said,  modestly,  "I 
was  lucky  enough  to  win  forty-eight  pounds." 

"  Whew  !  We  can't  afford  that  sort  of  thing  on  this  side  of 
the  water— not  if  you  happen  to  serve  Her  Majesty,  anyway. 
Come,  let's  cut  for  partners." 

There  was  but  little  talking,  of  course,  during  the  card 
playing ;  it  the  end  of  it  Mr.  Roscorla  found  he  had  only 
lost  half  a  sovereign.  Then  everybody  adjourned  to  a  snug 
little  smoking-room,  to  which  only  members  were  admitted. 
This,  to  the  neophyte,  was  the  pleasantest  part  of  the  even- 
ing.    He  seemed  to  hear  of  everything  that  was  going   on  in 


284  THREE  FEATHERS. 

self,  who  was  writing  out  a  very  elaborate  menu,  considering 
that  he  was  ordering  dinner  for  himself  only.  He  and  Mr. 
Roscorla  agreed  to  dine  together. 

Now  for  some  years  back  Mr.  Roscorla,  in  visiting  his  club, 
had  found  himself  in  a  very  isolated  and  uncomfortable  posi- 
tion. Long  ago  he  had  belonged  to  the  younger  set — to  those 
reckless  young  fellows  who  were  not  afraid  to  eat  a  hasty  din- 
ner, and  then  rush  off  to  take  a  mother  and  a  couple  of 
daughters  to  the  theatre,  returning  at  midnight  to  some  an- 
chovy toast  and  a  glass  of  Burgundy,  followed  by  a  couple  of 
hours  of  brandy-and-soda,  cigars,  and  billiards.  But  he  had 
drifted  away  from  that  set;  indeed,  they  had  disappeared,  and 
he  knew  none  of  their  successors.  On  the  other  hand,  he 
had  never  got  into  the  ways  of  the  "old-fogy  set.  Those  stout 
eld  gentlemen,  who  carefully  drank  nothing  but  ciaret-and- 
seltzer,  who  took  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  write  out  their  din- 
ner bill,  who  spent  the  evening  in  playing  whist,  kept  very 
much  to  themselves.  It  was  into  this  set  that  the  old  General 
now  introduced  him.  Mr.  Roscorla  had  quite  the  air  of  a 
bashful  young  man  when  he  made  one  of  a  party  of  those 
ancients,  who  dined  at  the  same  table  each  evening.  He  was 
almost  ashamed  to  order  a  pint  of  champagne  for  himself — 
it  savored  so  much  of  youth.  He  was  silent  in  the  presence 
of  his  seniors ;  and  indeed  they  were  garrulous  enough  to 
cover  his  silence.  Their  talk  was  mostly  of  politics — not  the 
politics  of  the  country,  but  the.  politics  of  office — of  under- 
secretaries and  candidates  for  place.  They  seemed  to  look 
on  the  Government  of  the  country  as  a  sort  of  mechanical 
clock,  which  from  time  to  time  sent  out  a  few  small  figures, 
and  from  time  to  time  took  them  in  again  ;  and  they  showed 
an  astonishing  acquaintance  with  the  internal  and  intricate 
mechanism  which  produced  these  changes.  Perhaps  it  was 
because  they  were  so  busy  in  watching  for  changes  on  the 
face  of  the  clock  that  they  seemed  to  forget  the  swinging  on- 
ward of  the  great  world  outside,  and  the  solemn  march  of  the 
stars. 

Most  of  those  old  gentlemen  had  lived  their  life — had  done 
theij-  share  of  heavy  dining  and  reckless  drinking  many  years 
ago — and  thus  it  was  they  had  come  to  drink  seltzer-and- 
claret.  But  it  appeared  that  it  was  their  custom,  after  din- 
ner, to  have  the  table  cover  removed,  and  some  port-wine 
placed  on  the  mahogany.  Mr.  Roscorla,  who  had  felt  as  yet 
no  ugly  sensations  about  his  finger  joints,  regarded  this  cere- 
mony with  equanimity  ;  but  it  was  made  the  subject  of  some 
ominous  joking  on  the  part  of  his  companions.     Then  joking 


,.\  rE  J  V  A  MB  I TIOA  rS.  283 

led  to  joking.  There  were  no  more  politics.  Some  very 
funny  stories  were  told.  Occasionally  one  or  two  names  were 
introduced,  as  of  persons  well  known  in  London  society, 
though  not  of  it ;  and  Mr.  Roscorla  was  surprised  that  he 
had  never  heard  these  names  before — you  see  how  one  be- 
comes ignorant  of  the  world  if  one  buries  one's  self  down  in 
Cornwall.  Mr.  Roscorla  began  to  take  quite  an  interest  in 
these  celebrated  people,  in  the  price  of  their  ponies,  and  the 
diamonds  they  were  understood  to  have  worn  at  a  certain 
very  singular  ball  He  was  pleased  to  hear,  too,  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  the  aristocracy  of  England  were  resuming  their 
ancient  patronage  of  the  arts  ;  for  he  was  given  to  under- 
stand that  a  young  earl  or  baron  could  scarcely  be  considered 
a  man  of  fashion  unless  he  owned  a  theatre. 

On  their  way  up  to  the  card-room,  Mr.  Roscorla  and  one 
of  his  venerable  companions  went  into  the  hall  to  get  their 
cigar-case  from  their  top-coat  pocket  This  elderly  gentle- 
man had  been  the  governor  of  an  island  in  the  Pacific.  He 
had  now  been  resident  for  many  years  in  England.  He  was 
on  the  directorate  of  one  or  two  well-known  commercial  com- 
panies ;  he  had  spoken  at  several  meetings  on  the  danger  of 
dissociating  religion  from  education  in  the  training  of  the 
young ;  in  short,  he  was  a  tower  of  respectability.  On  the 
present  occasion  he  had  to  pull  out  a  muffler  to  get  at  his 
cigar-case  ;  and  with  the  muffler  came  a  small  parcel  tied  up 
in  tissue-paper. 

"  Neat,  aren't  they  ?  "  said  he,  with  a  senile  grin,  showing 
Mr.  Roscorla  the  tips  of  a  pair  of  pink  satin  slippers. 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla  ;  "  I  suppose  they're  for  your 
daughter  ?  " 

They  went  up  to  the  card-room. 

"  I  expect  you'll  teach  us  a  lesson,  Roscorla,"  said  the  old 
General.  "  Gad,  some  of  you  West  Indian  fellows  know  the 
difference  between  a  ten  and  a  ace." 

"  Last  time  I  played  cards,"  Roscorla  said,  modestly,  "  I 
was  lucky  enough  to  win  forty-eight  pounds." 

"  Whew  !  We  can't  afford  that  sort  of  thing  on  this  side  of 
the  water — not  if  you  happen  to  serve  Her  Majesty,  anyway. 
Come,  let's  cut  for  partners." 

There  was  but  little  talking,  of  course,  during  the  card 
playing ;  ut  the  end  of  it  Mr.  Roscorla  found  he  had  only 
lost  half  a  sovereign.  Then  everybody  adjourned  to  a  snug 
little  smoking-room,  to  which  only  members  were  admitted. 
This,  to  the  neophyte,  was  the  pleasantest  part  of  the  even- 
ing.    He  seemed  to  hear  of  everything  that  was  going  on  in 


286  THREE  FEATHERS. 

London — and  a  good  deal  more  besides.  He  was  behind  the 
scenes  of  all  the  commercial,  social,  political  performances 
which  were  causing  the  vulgar  crowd  to  gape.  He  discovered 
the  true  history  of  the  hostility  shown  by  So-and-so  to  the 
Premier  ;  he  was  told  the  little  scandal  which  caused  Her 
Majesty  to  refuse  to  knight  a  certain  gentleman  who  had 
claims  on  the  Government ;  he  heard  what  the  Duke  "really 
did  offer  to  the  gamekeeper  whose  eye  he  had  shot  out,  and 
the  language  used  by  the  keeper  on  the  occasion  ;  and  he 
received  such  information  about  the  financial  affairs  of  many 
a  company  as  made  him  wonder  whether  the  final  collapse  of 
the  commercial  world  were  really  at  hand.  He  forgot  that 
he  had  heard  quite  similar  stories  twenty  years  before.  Then 
they  had  been  told  by  ingenuous  youths  full  of  the  importance 
of  the  information  they  had  just  acquired ;  now  they  were 
told  by  garrulous  old  gentlemen,  with  a  cynical  laugh  which 
was  more  amusing  than  the  hot-headed  asseveration  of  the 
juniors.  It  was,  on  the  whole,  a  delightful  evening — this 
first  evening  of  his  return  to  club-life  ;  and  then  it  was  so 
convenient  to  go  up-stairs  to  bed  instead  of  having  to  walk 
from  the  inn  of  Eglosilyan  to  Basset  Cottage. 

Just  before  leaving,  the  old  General  took  Roscorla  aside, 
and  said  to  him — 

"  Monstrous  amusing  fellows,  eh  ?  " 

"  Very." 

"  Just  a  word.  Don't  you  let  old  Lewis  lug  you  into  any 
of  his  companies — you  understand  ?  " 

"  There's  not  much  fear  of  that !  "  Mr.  Roscorla  said,  with 
a  laugh.     "  I  haven't  a  brass  farthing  to  invest." 

"  All  you  West  Indians  say  that ;  however,  so  much  the 
better.  And  there's  old  Strafford,  too  ;  he's  got  some  infer- 
nal India-rubber  patent.  Gad,  sir,  he  knows  no  more  about 
these  commercial  fellows  than  the  man  in  the  moon ;  and 
they'll  ruin  him — mark  my  words,  they'll  ruin  him." 

Roscorla  was  quite  pleased  to  be  advised.  It  made  him 
feel  young  and  ingenuous.  After  all,  the  disparity  in  years 
between  him  and  his  late  companions  was  most  obvious. 

"  And  when  are  you  coming  to  dine  with  us,  eh  ? "  the 
General  said,  lighting  a  last  cigar  and  getting  his  hat.  To- 
morrow night  ? — quiet  family  party,  you  know  ;  her  lady- 
ship'll  be  awfully  glad  to  see  you.  Is  it  a  bargain  ?  All  right 
— seven ;  we're  early  folks.  I  say — you  needn't  mention  I 
dined  here  to-night ;  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I'm  supposed  to 
be  looking  after  a  company  too,  and  precious  busy  about  it 
Mum's  the  word  ;  d'ye  see  ?  " 


NEW  AMBITIONS.  287 

Really  this  plunge  into  a  new  sort  of  life  was  quite  delight- 
ful. When  he  went  down  to  breakfast  next  morning  he  was 
charmed  with  the  order  and  cleanliness  of  everything  around 
him  ;  the  sunlight  was  shining  in  at  the  large  windows ;  there 
was  a  bright  fire,  in  front  of  which  he  stood  and  read  the 
paper  until  his  cutlets  came.  There  was  no  croaking  of  an  old 
Cornish  housekeeper  over  her  bills ;  no  necessity  for  seeing 
if  the  grocer  had  been  correct  in  his  addition.  Then  there 
was  a  slight  difference  between  the  cooking  here  and  that 
which  prevailed  in  Basset  Cottage. 

In  a  comfortable  frame  of  mind  he  leisurely  walked  down 
to  Cannon  Street,  and  announced  himself  to  his  partners. 
He  sat  for  an  hour  or  so  in  a  snug  little  parlor,  talking  over 
their  joint  venture,  and  describing  all  that  had  been  done. 
There  was,  indeed,  every  ground  for  hope  ;  and  he  was 
pleased  to  hear  them  say  that  they  were  especially  obliged  to 
him  for  having  gone  out  to  verify  the  reports  that  had  been 
sent  home,  and  for  his  personal  supervision  while  there.  They 
hoped  he  would  draw  on  the  joint  association  for  a  certain 
sum  which  should  represent  the  value  of  that  supervision. 

Now,  if  Mr.  Roscorla  had  really  been  possessed  at  this 
moment  of  the  wealth  to  which  he  looked  forward,  he  would 
not  have  taken  so  much  interest  in  it.  He  would  have  said 
to  himself — 

"  What  is  the  life  I  am  to  lead,  now  that  I  have  this  money  ? 
Having  luncheon  at  the  club  ;  walking  in  the  Park  in  the  after- 
noon ;  dining  with  a  friend  in  the  evening,  and  playing  whist 
or  billiards,  with  the  cheerless  return  to  a  bachelor's  chambers 
at  night  ?     Is  that  all  that  my  money  can  give  me  ? " 

But  he  had  not  the  money.  He  looked  forward  to  it ;  and 
it  seemed  to  him  that  it  contained  all  the  possibilities  of  hap- 
piness. Then  he  would  be  free.  No  more  stationary  drag- 
ging out  of  existence  in  that  Cornish  cottage.  He  would 
move  about ;  he  would  enjoy  life.  He  was  still  younger  than 
those  jovial  old  fellows  who  seemed  to  be  happy  enough. 
When  he  thought  of  Wenna  Rosewarne,  it  was  with  the  notion 
that  marriage  very  considerably  hampers  a  man's  freedom  of 
action. 

If  a  man  were  married,  could  he  have  a  choice  of  thirty 
dishes  for  luncheon  ?  Could  he  have  the  first  edition  of  the 
evening  papers  brought  him  almost  damp  from  the  press? 
Then  how  pleasant  it  was  to  be  able  to  smoke  a  cigar  and  to 
write  one  or  two  letters  at  the  same  time — in  a  large  and  well- 
ventilated  room.  Mr.  Roscorla  did  not  fail  to  draw  on  his 
partners  for  the  sum  they  had  mentioned  ;  he  was  not  short 


288  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

of  money,  but  he  might  as  well  ga  her  the  first  few  drops  of 
the  coming  shower. 

He  did  not  go  up  to  walk  in  the  Park,  for  he  knew  there 
would  be  almost  nobody  there  at  that  time  of  the  year ;  but 
he  walked  up  to  Bond  Street  and  bought  a  pair  of  dress-boots, 
after  which  he  returned  to  the  club,  and  played  billiards  with 
one  of  his  companions  of  the  previous  evening  until  it  was 
time  to  dress  for  dinner. 

The  party  at  the  General's  was  a  sufficiently  small  one ;  for 
you  cannot  ask  any  one  to  dinner  at  a  few  hours'  notice,  ex- 
cept it  be  a  merry  and  marriageable  widow  vvho  has  been  told 
that  she  will  meet  an  elderly  and  marriageable  bachelor. 
This  complaisant  lady  was  present ;  and  Mr.  Roscorla  found 
himself  on  his  entrance  being  introduced  to  a  good-looking, 
buxom  dame,  who  had  a  healthy,  merry,  roseate  face,  very 
black  eyes  and  hair,  and  a  somewhat  gorgeous  dress.  She 
was  a  trifle  demure  at  first,  but  her  amiable  shyness  soon  wore 
off,  and  she  was  most  kind  to  Mr.  Roscorla.  He,  of  course, 
had  to  take  in  Lady  Weekes  ;  but  Mrs.  Seton-Willoughby  sat 
opposite  him,  and,  while  keeping  the  whole  table  amused  with 
an  account  of  her  adventures  in  Galway,  appeared  to  address 
the  narrative  principally  to  the  stranger. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  Lady  Weekes,"  she  said,  "  I  was  so  glad  to 
get  back  to  Brighton  !  I  thought  I  should  have  forgotten  my 
own  language,  and  taken  to  war-paint  and  feathers,  if  I  had 
remained  much  longer.  And  Brighton  is  so  delightful  just 
now — just  comfortably  filled,  without  the  November  crush 
having  set  in.  Now,  couldn't  you  persuade  the  General  to 
take  you  down  for  a  few  days  ?  I  am  going  down  on  Friday ; 
and  you  know  how  dreadful  it  is  for  a  poor  lone  woman  to  be 
in  a  hotel,  especially  with  a  maid  who  spends  all  her  time  in 
flirting  with  the  first-floor  waiters.     Now,  won't  you,  dear  ? 

I  assure  you  the Hotel  is  most  charming — such  freedom. 

and  the  pleasant  parties  they  make  up  in  the  drawing-room  ; 
I  believe  they  have  a  ball  two  or  three  nights  a  week  just 
now — " 

"  I  should  have  thought  you  would  have  found  the rather 

quieter,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  naming  a  good  old-fashioned 
house. 

"  Rather  quieter  ? "  said  the  widow,  raising  her  eyebrows. 
"Yes,  a  good  deal  quieter!  About  as  quiet  as  a  Dissenting 
chapel.  No,  no ;  if  one  means  to  have  a  little  pleasure,  why 
go  to  such  a  place  as  that  ?  Now,  will  you  come  and  prove 
tL;  truth  of  what  I  have  told  you  ?  " 


NEW  AMBITIONS.  289 

Mr.  Roscorla  looked  alarmed ;  and  even  the  solemn  Lady 
Weekes  had  to  conceal  a  smile. 

"  Of  course  I  mean  you  to  persuade  our  friends  here  to 
come  too,"  the  widow  explained.  "  What  a  delightful  frolic 
it  would  be — for  a  few  days,  you  know,  to  break  away  from 
London  !     Now,  my  dear,  what  do  you  say  ? " 

She  turned  to  her  hostess.  That  small  and  sombre  person 
referred  her  to  the  General.  The  General,  on  being  appealed 
to,  said  he  thought  it  would  be  a  capital  joke ;  and  would 
Mr.  Roscorla  go  with  them  ?  Mr.  Roscorla,  not  seeing  why 
he  should  not  have  a  little  frolic  of  this  sort  just  like  any  one 
else,  said  he  would.  So  they  agreed  to  meet  at  Victoria  Sta- 
tion on  the  following  Friday. 

"  Struck,  eh  ?  "  said  the  old  General,  when  the  two  gentle- 
men were  alone  after  dinner.  "  Has  she  wounded  you,  eh  ? 
Gad,  sir,  that  woman  has  ^"8000  a  year  in  the  India  Four  per 
Cents.  Would  you  believe  it  ?  Would  you  believe  that  any 
man  could  have  been  such  a  fool  as  to  put  such  a  fortune  in- 
to India  Four  per  Cents  ? — with  mortgages  going  a-begging 
at  five,  and  the  marine  insurance  companies  paying  thirteen  ! 
Well,  my  boy,  what  do  you  think  of  her  ?  She  was  most  un- 
commonly attentive  to  you,  that  I'll  swear — don't  deny  it — 
now,  don't  deny  it.  Bless  my  soul,  you  marrying  men  are  so 
sly  there's  no  getting  at  you.  Well,  what  was  I  saying  ?  Yes, 
yes — will  she  do  ?     £  8000  a  year,  as  I'm  a  living  sinner." 

Mr.  Roscorla  was  intensely  flattered  to  have  it  even  sup- 
posed that  the  refusal  of  such  a  fortune  was  within  his  power. 

*'  Well,"  said  he,  modestly  and  yet  critically,  "  she's  not 
quite  my  style.  I'm  rather  afraid  of  three-deckers.  But  she 
seems  a  very  good-natured  sort  of  woman." 

"  Good-natured  !  Is  that  all  you  say  ?  I  can  tell  you,  in 
my  time  men  were  nothing  so  particular  when  there  was 
;£8ooo  a  year  going  a-begging." 

"  Well,  well,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  with  a  smile.  "  It  is  a 
very  good  joke.  When  she  marries,  she'll  marry  a  younger 
man  than  I  am —  " 

"  Don't  you  be  mistaken — don't  you  be  mistaken !  "  the 
old  General  cried.  "  You've  made  an  impression — I'll  swear 
you  have ;  and  I  told  her  ladyship  you  would." 

"  And  what  did  Lady  Weekes  say  ?  " 

"  Gad,  sir,  she  said  it  would  be  a  deuced  good  thing  for 
both  of  you." 

"  She  is  very  kind,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  pleased  at  the 
notion  of  having  such  a  prize  within  reach,  and  yet  not 
J9 


290  THREE  FEATHERS. 

pleased  that  Lady  Weekes  should  have  fancied  this  the  sort 
of  woman  he  would  care  to  marry. 

They  went  to  Brighton,  and  a  very  pleasant  time  of  it 
they  had  at  the  big,  noisy  hotel.  The  weather  was  delight- 
ful. Mrs.  Seton-Willoughby  was  excessively  fond  of  riding ; 
forenoon  and  afternoon  they  had  their  excursions,  with  the 
pleasant  little  dinner  of  the  evening  to  follow.  Was  not  this  a 
charmed  land  into  which  the  former  hermit  of  Basset  Cottage 
was  straying  ?  Of  course,  he  never  dreamed  for  a  moment 
of  marrying  this  widow;  that  was  out  of  the  question.  She 
was  just  a  little  too  demonstrative — very  clever  and  amusing 
for  half  an  hour  or  so,  but  too  gigantic  a  blessing  to  be  taken 
through  life.  It  was  the  mere  possibility  of  marrying  her, 
however,  which  attracted  Mr.  Roscorla.  He  honestly  believ- 
ed, judging  by  her  kindness  to  him,  that,  if  he  seriously  tried, 
he  could  get  her  to  marry  him  ;  in  other  words,  that  he  might 
become  possessed  of  ^8000  a  year.  This  money,  so  to  speak, 
was  within  his  reach ;  and  it  was  only  now  that  he  was  begin- 
ning to  see  that  money  could  purchase  many  pleasures  even 
for  the  middle-aged.  He  made  a  great  mistake  in  imagining, 
down  in  Cornwall,  that  he  had  lived  his  life;  and  that  he  had 
but  to  look  forward  to  mild  enjoyments,  a  peaceful  wander- 
ing onwards  to  the  grave,  and  the  continual  study  of  econ- 
omy in  domestic  affairs.  He  was  only  now  beginning  to 
live. 

"  And  when  are  you  coming  back  ?  "  said  the  widow  to 
him,  one  evening,  when  they  were  all  talking  of  his  leaving 
England. 

"That  I  don't  know,"  he  said. 

"  Of  course,"  she  said,  "  you  don't  mean  to  remain  in  the 
West  Indies.  I  suppose  lots  of  people  have  to  go  there  for 
some  object  or  other,  but  they  always  come  back  when  it  is 
attained." 

"  They  come  back  to  attain  some  other  object  here,"  said 
Mr.  Roscorla. 

"Then  we'll  soon  find  you  that,"  the  General  burst  in. 
"  No  man  lives  out  of  England  who  can  help  it.  Don't  you 
find  in  this  country  enough  to  satisfy  you  ? " 

"  Indeed  I  do,"  Mr.  Roscorla  said,  "  especially  within  the 
last  few  days.  I  have  enjoyed  myself  enormously.  I  shall 
always  have  a  friendly  recollection  of  Brighton." 

"  Are  you  going  down  to  Cornwall  before  you  leave  ?  "  Sir 
Percy  asked. 

"  No,"  said  he,  slowly. 

"  That  isn't  quite  so  cheerful  as  Brighton,  eh  ?  " 


AN  OLD  LADY'S  APOLOGY.  291 

"  Not  quite." 

He  kept  his  word.  He  did  not  go  back  to  Cornwall  be- 
fore leaving  England,  nor  did  he  send  a  single  line  or  mes- 
sage to  any  one  there.  It  was  with  something  of  a  proud 
indifference  that  he  set  sail,  and  also  with  some  notion  that 
he  was  being  amply  revenged  For  the  rest,  he  hated 
"  scenes  ;  "  and  he  had  encountered  quite  enough  of  these 
during  his  brief  visit  to  Eglosilyan. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

AN  OLD  LADY'S  APOLOGY, 

When  Wenna  heard  that  Mr.  Roscorla  had  left  England 
without  even  bidding  her  good-bye  by  letter,  she  accepted 
the  rebuke  with  submission,  and  kept  her  own  counsel  She 
went  about  her  daily  duties  with  an  unceasing  industry;  Mrs. 
Trelyon  was  astonished  to  see  how  she  seemed  to  find  time 
for  everything.  The  winter  was  coming  on,  and  the  Sewing 
Club  was  in  full  activity ;  but  even  apart  from  the  affairs  of 
that  enterprise,  Wenna  Rosewarne  seemed  to  be  everywhere 
throughout  the  village,  to  know  everything,  to  be  doing  every- 
thing that  prudent  help  and  friendly  counsel  could  do.  Mrs. 
Trelyon  grew  to  love  the  girl— in  her  vague,  wondering,  sim- 
ple fashion. 

So  the  days  and  the  weeks  and  the  months  went  by  ;  and 
the  course  of  life  ran  smoothly  and  quietly  in  the  remote 
Cornish  village.  Apparently  there  was  nothing  to  indicate 
the  presence  of  bitter  regrets,  of  crushed  hopes,  of  patient 
despair:  only  Mabyn  used  to  watch  her  sister  at  times,  and  she 
fancied  that  Wenna' s  face  was  growing  thinner. 

The  Christmas  festivities  came  on,  and  Mrs.  Trelyon  was 
pleased  to  lend  her  protegee  a  helping  hand  in  decorating  the 
church.     One  evening  she  said — 

"  My  dear  Miss  Wenna,  I  am  going  to  ask  you  an  imperti- 
nent question.  Could  your  family  spare  you  on  Christmas 
evening  ?  Harry  is  coming  down  from  London  ;  I  am  sure 
he  would  be  so  pleased  to  see  you." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  Mrs.  Trelyon,"  Wenna  said,  with"  just  a 
little  nervousness.  "  You  are  very  kind,  but  indeed  I  must 
be  at  home  on  Christmas  evening." 

"  Perhaps  some  other  evening  while  he  is  here  you  will  be 
able  to  come  up,"  said  Mrs.  Trelyon,   in  her  gentle  way. 


292  THREE  FEATHERS. 

"  You  know  you  ought  to  come  and  see  how  your  pupil  is 
getting  on.  He  writes  me  such  nice  letters  now  ;  and  I  fancy 
he  is  working  very  hard  at  his  studies,  though  he  says  noth- 
ing about  it." 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it,"  Wenna  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

Trelyon  did  come  to  the  Hall  for  a  few  days,  but  he  kept 
away  from  the  village,  and  was  seen  by  no  one  of  the  Rose- 
warnes.  But  on  the  Christmas  morning  Mabyn  Rosewarne, 
being  early  about,  was  told  that  Mrs.  Trelyon's  groom  wished 
to  see  her ;  and  going  down,  she  found  the  man,  with  a  basket 
before  him. 

"  Please,  miss,  Mr.  Trelyonrs  compliments,  and  would  you 
take  the  flowers  out  of  the  cotton  wool,  and  give  them  to  Miss 
Rosewarne ! " 

"  Oh,  won't  I !  "  said  Mabyn,  opening  the  basket  at  once, 
and  carefully  getting  out  a  bouquet  of  camellias,  snowdrops, 
and  sweet  violets.  "  Just  you  wait  a  minute,  Jakes,  for  I've 
got  a  Christmas-box:  for  you." 

Mabyn  went  up-stairs  as  rapidly  as  was  consistent  with  the 
safety  of  the  flowers,,  and  burst  into  her  sister's  room. 

"Oh  Wenna,  look  at  this  I  Doyou  know  who  sent  them? 
Did  you  ever  see  anything  so  lovely  ? " 

For  a  second  the  girl  seemed  almost  frightened  ;,  then  her 
eyes  grew  troubled  and  moist,  and  she  turned  her  head  away. 
Mabyn  put  them  gently  down,  and  Left  the  room  without  a 
word. 

The  Christmas  and  the  new  year  passed  without  any  mes- 
sage from  Mr.  Roscorla  ;  and  Mabyn,  though  she  rebelled 
against  the  bondage  in  which  her  sister  was  placed,,  was  glad 
that  she.  was  not  disturbed  by  angry  letters.  About  the  mid- 
dle of  January,  however,  a  brief  note  arrived  from  Jamaica. 

"  I  cannot  let  such  a  time  go  by,"  Mr.  Roscorla  wrote, 
"  whatever  may  be  our  relations,  without  sending  you  a  friend- 
ly word.  I  do  hope  the  new  year  will  bring  you  health  and 
happiness,  and  that  we  shall  in  time  forget  the  angry  manner 
in  which  we  parted,  and  all  the  circumstances  leading  to  it." 

She  wrote  as  brief  a  note  in  reply,  at  the  end  of  which  she 
hoped  he  would  forgive  her  for  any  pain  he  had  suffered 
through  her.  Mabyn  was  rejoiced  to  find  that  the  correspond- 
ence— whether  it  was  or  was  not  meant  on  his  part  to  be  an 
offer  of  reconciliation — stopped  there. 

And  again  the  slow  days  went  by,  until  the  world  began  to 
stir  with  the  new  spring-time — the  saddest  time  of  the  year 
to  those  who  live  much  in  the  past.  Wenna  was  out  and  about 
a  great  deal,  being  continually  busy ;  but  she  no  longer  took 


AN  OLD  LADY'S  APOLOGY.  293 

those  long  walks  by  herself  in  which  she  used  to  chat  to  the 
butterflies  and  the  young  lambs  and  the  sea-gulls.  The  fresh 
western  breezes  no  longer  caused  her  spirits  to  flow  over  in 
careless  gayety  ;  she  saw  the  new  flowers  springing  out  of  the 
earth,  but  it  was  of  another  spring-time  she  was  thinking. 

One  day,  later  on  in  the  year,  Mrs.  Trelyon  sent  down  the 
wagonette  for  her,  with  the  request  that  she  would  come  up 
to  the  Hall  for  a  few  minutes.  Wenna  obeyed  the  summons, 
imagining  that  some  business  connected  with  the  Sewing  Club 
claimed  her  attention.  When  she  arrived,  she  found  Mrs. 
Trelyon  unable  to  express  the  gladness  and  gratitude  that 
filled  her  heart ;  for  before  her  were  certain  London  news- 
papers, and  behold!  Harry  Trelyon's  name  was  recorded 
there  in  certain  lists  as  having  scored  a  sufficient  number  of 
marks  in  the  examination  to  entitle  him  to  a  first  commission. 
It  was  no  concern  of  hers  that  his  name  was  pretty  far  down 
in  the  list — enough  that  he  had  succeeded  somehow.  And 
who  was  the  worker  of  this  miracle — who  but  the  shy,  sad-eyed 
girl  standing  beside  her,  whose  face  wore  now  a  happier  ex- 
pression than  it  had  worn  for  many  a  day  ? 

"  And  this  is  what  he  says,"  the  proud  mother  continued, 
showing  Wenna  a  letter.  "  c  It  isn't  much  to  boast  of,  for  in- 
deed you'll  see  by  the  numbers  that  it  was  rather  a  narrow 
squeak ;  anyhow,  I  pulled  through.  My  old  tutor  is  rather  a 
speculative  fellow,  and  he  offered  to  bet  me  fifty  pounds  his 
coaching  would  carry  me  through,  which  I  took :  so  I  shall 
have  to  pay  him  that  besides  his  fees.  I  must  say  he  has 
earned  both  ;  I  don't  think  a  more  ignorant  person  than  my- 
self ever  went  to  a  man  to  get  crammed.  I  send  you  two 
newspapers ;  you  might  drop  one  at  the  inn  for  Miss  Rose- 
warne  any  time  you  are  passing;  or  if  you  could  see  her  and 
tell  her,  perhaps  that  would  be  better.'  " 

Wenna  was  about  as  pleased  and  proud  as  Mrs.  Trelyon 
was. 

"  I  knew  he  could  do  it,  if  he  tried,"  she  said,  quietly. 

"  And  then,"  the  mother  went  on  to  say,  "  when  he  has  once 
joined,  there  will  be  no  money  wanting  to  help  him  to  his  pro- 
motion ;  and  when  he  comes  back  to  settle  down  here,  he  will 
have  some  recognized  rank  and  profession  such  as  a  man 
ought  to  have.  Not  that  he  will  remain  in  the  army-— for,  of 
course,  I  should  not  like  to  part  with  him  ;  and  he  might  be 
sent  to  Africa,  or  Canada,  or  the  West  Indies.  You  know," 
she  added  with  a  smile,  "  that  it  is  not  pleasant  to  have  any 
one  you  care  for  in  the  West  Indies." 

When  Wenna  got  home  again,  she  told  Mabyn.     Strange 


294  THREE  FEA  THERS. 

to  say,  Mabyn  did  not  clap  her  hands  for  joy,  as  might  have 
been  expected. 

"Wenna,"  said  she,  "what  made  him  go  into  the  army? 
Was  it  to  show  you  that  he  could  pass  an  examination  ?  or 
was  it  because  he  means  to  leave  England  ? " 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Wenna,  looking  down.  "I  hope  he 
does  not  mean  to  leave  England."     That  was  all  she  said. 

Harry  Trelyon  was,  however,  about  to  leave  England, 
though  not  because  he  had  been  gazetted  to  a  colonial  regi- 
ment. He  came  down  to  inform  his  mother  that,  on  the  fif- 
teenth of  the  month,  he  would  sail  for  Jamaica ;  and  then  and 
there,  for  the  first  time,  he  told  her  the  whole  story  of  his 
love  for  WTenna  Rosewarne,  of  his  determination  to  free  her 
somehow  from  the  bonds  that  bound  her,  and,  failing  that,  of 
the  revenge  he  meant  to  take.  Mrs.  Trelyon  was  amazed, 
angry,  and  beseeching  in  turns. 

At  one  moment  she  protested  that  it  was  madness  of  her 
son  to  think  of  marrying  Wenna  Rosewarne ;  at  another,  she 
would  admit  all  that  he  said  in  praise  of  her,  and  would  only 
implore  him  not  to  leave  England ;  or  again  she  would  hint 
that  she  would  almost  herself  go  down  to  Wenna  and  beg  her 
to  marry  him  if  only  he  gave  up  this  wild  intention  of  his. 
He  had  never  seen  his  mother  so  agitated ;  but  he  reasoned 
gently  with  her,  and  remained  firm  to  his  purpose.  Was 
there  half  as  much  danger  in  taking  a  fortnight's  trip  in  a 
mail-steamer  as  in  going  from  Southampton  to  Malta  in  a 
yacht,  which  he  had  twice  done  with  her  consent? 

"Why,  if  I  had  been  ordered  to  join  a  regiment  in  China, 
you  might  have  some  reason  to  complain,"  he  said.  "  And 
I  shall  be  as  anxious  as  you,  mother,  to  get  back  again,  for  I 
mean  to  get  up  my  drill  thoroughly  as  soon  as  I  am  attached. 
I  have  plenty  of  work  before  me." 

"  You're  not  looking  well,  Harry,"  said  the  mother. 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  he,  cheerfully.  "  You  don't  catch 
one  of  those  geese  at  Strasburg  looking  specially  lively  when 
they  tie  it  by  the  leg  and  cram  it — and  that's  what  I've  been 
going  through  of  late.  But  what  better  cure  can  there  be 
than  a  sea-voyage  ? " 

And  so  it  came  about  that,  on  a  pleasant  evening  in  Octo- 
ber, Mr.  Roscorla  received  a  visit.  He  saw  the  young  man 
come  riding  up  the  acacia  path,  and  he  instantaneously 
guessed  his  mission.     His  own  resolve  was  taken  as  quickly. 

"  Bless  my  soul,  is  it  you,  Trelyon  ?  "  he  cried,  with  appar- 
ent delight.     "  You  mayn't  believe  it,  but  I  am  really  glad  to 


4N  OLD  LADY'S  APOLOGY. 


295 


see  you.  I  have  been  going  to  write  to  you  for  many  a  day 
back.  I'll  send  somebody  for  your  horse ;  come  into  the 
house." 

The  young  man,  having  fastened  up  the  bridle,  followed  his 
host.  There  was  a  calm  and  business-like  rather  than  a  hol- 
iday look  on  his  face. 

"  And  what  were  you  going  to  write  to  me  about  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  you  know,"  said  Roscorla,  good-naturedly.  "  You 
see,  a  man  takes  very  different  views  of  life  when  he  knocks 
about  a  bit.  For  my  part,  I  am  more  interested  in  my  bus- 
iness now  than  in  anything  else  of  a  more  tender  character  ; 
and  I  may  say  that  I  hope  to  pay  you  back  a  part  of  the 
money  you  lent  me  as  soon  as  our  accounts  for  this  year  are 
made  up.  Well,  about  that  other  point — I  don't  see  how  I 
could  well  return  to  England,  to  live  permanently  there,  for 
a  year  or  two  at  the  soonest ;  and — and,  in  fact — I  have  often 
wondered,  now,  whether  it  wouldn't  be  better  if  I  asked  Miss 
Rosewarne  to  consider  herself  finally  free  from  that — from 
that  engagement — " 

"  Yes,  I  think  it  would  be  a  great  deal  better,"  said  Trei- 
yon,  coldly.  "  And  perhaps  you  would  kindly  put  your  re- 
solve into  writing.  I  shall  take  it  back  to  Miss  Rosewarne. 
Will  you  kindly  do  so  now  ? " 

"  Why  !  "  said  Roscorla,  rather  sharply,  "  you  don't  take 
my  proposal  in  a  very  friendly  way.  I  imagine  I  am  doing 
you  a  good  turn  too.  It  is  not  every  man  would  do  so  in  my 
position;  for,  after  all,  she  treated  me  very  badly.  However, 
we  needn't  go  into  that.  I  will  write  her  a  letter  if  you  like 
— now,  indeed,  if  you  like  ;  and  won't  you  stop  a  day  or  two 
here  before  going  back  to  Kingston  ?  " 

Mr.  Trelyon  intimated  that  he  would  like  to  have  the  letter 
at  once,  and  that  he  would  consider  the  invitation  afterwards. 
Roscorla,  with  a  good-humored  shrug,  sat  down  and  wrote  it, 
and  then  handed  it  to  Trelyon,  open.  As  he  did  so,  he  no- 
ticed that  the  young  man  was  coolly  abstracting  the  cartridge 
from  a  small  breech-loading  pistol  he  held  in  his  hand.  He 
put  the  cartridge  in  his  waistcoat-pocket  and  the  pistol  in  his 
coat-pocket. 

"  Did  you  think  we  were  savages  out  here,  that  you  came 
armed  ? "  said  Roscorla,  rather  pale,  but  smiling. 

"  I  didn't  know,"  said  Trelyon. 

One  morning  there  was  a  marriage  in  Eglosilyan,  up  there 
at  the  small  church  on  the  bleak  downs,  overlooking  the  wide 
sea.     The  spring-time  had  come  round  again  ;  there  was  a 


296  THREE  FEATHERS. 

May-like  mildness  in  the  air ;  the  skies  overhead  were  as 
blue  as  the  great  plain  of  the  sea;  and  all  the  beautiful  green 
world  was  throbbing  with  the  upspringing  life  of  the  flowers. 
It  was  just  like  any  other  wedding,  but  for  one  little  incident. 
When  the  bride  came  out  into  the  bewildering  glare  of  the 
sun,  she  vaguely  knew  that  the  path  through  the  churchyard 
was  lined  on  both  sides  with  children.  Now  she  was  rather 
well  known  to  the  children  about,  and  they  had  come  in  a 
great  number ;  and  when  she  passed  down  between  them,  it 
appeared  that  the  little  folks  had  brought  vast  heaps  of  prim- 
roses and  violets  in  their  aprons  and  in  their  tiny  baskets, 
and  they  strewed  her  path  with  these  flowers  of  the  new  spring. 
Well,  she  burst  into  tears  at  this  ;  and  hastily  leaving  her  hus- 
band's arm  for  a  moment,  she  caught  up  one  of  the  least  of 
the  children — a  small,  golden-haired  girl  of  four — and  kissed 
her.  Then  she  turned  to  her  husband  again,  and  was  glad 
that  he  led  her  down  to  the  gate,  for  her  eyes  were  so  blinded 
with  tears  that  she  could  not  see  her  way. 

Nor  did  anything  very  remarkable  occur  at  the  wedding- 
breakfast.  But  there  was  a  garrulous  old  lady  there,  with 
bright,  pink  cheeks  and  silvery  hair ;  and  she  did  not  cease 
to  prattle  to  the  clergyman  who  had  officiated  in  the  church, 
and  who  was  seated  next  her. 

"Indeed,  Mr.  Trewhella,"  she  said  confidentially,  "I  al- 
ways said  this  is  what  would  come  of  it.  Never  any  one  of 
those  Trelyon*  set  his  heart  on  a  girl  but  he  got  her ;  and 
what  was  the  use  of  friends  or  relatives  fighting  against  it  ? 
Nay,  I  don't  think  there's  any  cause  of  complaint — not  I ! 
She's  a  modest,  nice,  lady-like  girl — she  is  indeed — although 
she  isn't  so  handsome  as  her  sister.  Dear,  dear  me,  look  at 
that  girl  now  !  Won't  she  be  a  prize  for  some  man  !  I  de- 
clare I  haven't  seen  so  handsome  a  girl  for  many  a  day.  And 
as  I  tell  you,  Mr.  Trewhella,  it's  no  use  trying  to  prevent  it ; 
if  one  of  the  Trelyons  falls  in  love  with  a  girl,  the  girl's  done 
for — she  may  as  well  give  in — " 

"  If  I  may  say  so,"  observed  the  old  clergyman,  with  a  sly 
gallantry,  "you  do  not  give  the  gentlemen  of  your  family 
credit  for  the  most  remarkable  feature  of  their  marriage  con- 
nections. They  seem  to  have  always  had  a  very  good  idea 
of  making  an  excellent  choice." 

The  old  lady  was  vastly  pleased. 

"  Ah,  well,"  she  said,  with  a  shrewd  smile,  "  there  were 
two  or  three  who  thought  George  Trelyon — that  was  this 
young  man's  grandfather,  you  know — lucky  enough,  if 
one  might  judge  by  the  noise  they  made.     Dear,  dear,  what 


AN  OLD  LADY'S  APOLOGY.  zyj 

a  to-do  there  was  when  we  ran  away  !  Why,  don't  you  know, 
Mr.  Trewhella,  that  I  ran  away  from  a  ball  with  him—and 
drove  to  Gretna  Green  with  my  ball-dress  on,  as  I'm  a  living 
woman  !  Such  a  ride  it  was  !— why,  when  we  got  up  to  Car- 
lisle—" 

But  that  story  has  been  told  before. 


THE    END. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

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